When Lightning Strikes
by Zmeyette
Summary: A year has passed since Rose had been hit by lightning when she is given a scholarship to a very prestigious but reclusive academy somewhere in the US. There she meets people she never expected to have existed. AU/AT/partly AH. DxR/AxR. Please R&R. -Katya
1. Preface

**I don't have a summary; I'm not really good at making them. I'm not going to tell you what the story's about, too. It's up for you to guess right. I was just bored, then I decided to put the Preface up my new story. There's no class this day and our house is being renovated and I'm stuck here in my room doing absolutely nothing. I am writing chapters as of now.**

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**Preface**

One day, I was just the run-of-the-mill executor of rogues and criminals, a worker of my father's agency, and then the next thing I knew, my life had changed drastically. After waking up from a month-long coma, I discovered that I wasn't the run-of-the-mill girl in 2056 anymore. Apparently, I was hit by lightning which should have left me burnt to crisp or dead. But no, I was alive and damaged. I called it a neurological side effect, the weird _thing_ that occurs to me every time I get overwhelmed, but some said it was a gift from the gods. I scoffed at the latter, of course. I mean…gods?

I have a question: Is controlling electricity and manifesting lightning a neurological side-effect?

Who the hell knows?

So, after a year of having the suffering from my "neurological side effect", I got an invite to a scholarship in a very private school in the mountains of Montana. Now, who the hell knew there was a private school in the mountains of Montana? Apparently, nobody knew, except for my father, but that's up for you to discover why.

Anyway, long story short, I was now in this academy they call, well, the Academy, and I was training until I had nothing to train anymore. Just when I thought everything was going smoothly with the Vessels—The Handsome and The Intriguing— and the whole Academy, they drop a bomb on me that altered my life more than my neurological side effect had.

Nobody ever said that being popular was crazy.

Alternate Universe/ Alternate Timeline

Genres (order of superiority): Supernatural/Adventure/Sci-Fi/Humor/Futuristic/Romance

**The story consists of profanity. **

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**Tell me what you think. ;-)**

**xOxO,**

**K8  
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	2. Chapter 1

**Gladly presenting the first chapter. Not really proof-read, so if there are any mistakes, put the blame on me. Enjoy :))**

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**Chapter One**

**Being a mob dictator's daughter isn't as crazy as it seems**, especially when you get a congenial amount of respect and reputation out of them. In my—_our—_case, as my father's functional right hand's right hand in business, we were the ones who stopped at nothing to eradicate people and androids that threaten to break the laws set up by the Ethics and the government—after all, it's 2056, and most people do illegal things just to gain money and power and all those single-minded things ambitious minds boast to expose and strive to get—both good ways and bad.

Gunning after rogue mafias and dealers were my father's and his goons' style, but I prefer my old school falchion and throwing blades better than high-rated Smith & Wessons. Me being me, I tend to go all old-fashioned and I usually end up picking Jet Li's moves from his movies instead of listening to my holographic instructor. By the way, my instructor's Jet Li's grandson, an unfortunate far-cry of his granddaddy. In the movies, anyway. It wasn't like I knew Jet Li and his moves on a personal level.

Anyway, back to the present. I was here in the slums somewhere in New York, working double-time on a drill Yilmaz, a stubborn Turk and father's second in command, orchestrated. He intended me to break up a tryst and be a distraction, enough for them—father's goons, AKA The Men—to sneak in and bust the whole party of rogue dealers and dirty smugglers. In short, they were using me as bait. I would have intensely disagreed to be made bait if I had a choice. But when it comes to Yilmaz's orders, I knew better than to pack a wallop of a fight against his crappy motives and decisions (those are one of the things Yilmaz and I argue about that I just couldn't win). But that didn't mean I was cooperating. Not fully, anyway.

The New York sky was covered in layers and layers of cumulonimbus clouds. It was the exact moment the Weather Watcher—an electronic device which predicts phases of weather even if that day is half a year away— had concluded. A storm was about to come, and people, especially rogues and androids were unlikely to be out during a thunderstorm. It was a perfect alibi for them not to be suspected of making a move, those rogues. If this was how all the rogues' mind revolt, Yilmaz shouldn't have needed bait. All that stubborn Turk had to do was pick up his phone and call reinforcements. But no, Yilmaz had to stand up stick-straight and let his ego win the best of a well-laid plan set by the best of father's three advisers.

It's a good thing I wasn't like a puppy trained to obey his master. I pull the strings in my own life. I've lived that way, and survived. Unfortunately, it is a trait I picked up from my father and Yilmaz. In this generation, it was survival to the fittest if you weren't connected with anybody high in politics. Although my father is a well-known legitimate mob dictator (not the cruel type, hence he serves as the peacekeeper, and draws the line to dealing limits), that didn't mean that I was going to stand around, figuratively waiting for a prince in shining white armor to save me so we could live happily ever after.

Yeah, I'm waiting and whimpering for some prince to save me from this nightmare. Ha-ha. Only when hell freezes over.

And during these times of crisis, no prince would be wearing white armor without getting mud on them. Not when there's a thunderstorm and lightning anyway. Don't want to risk wearing metal when lightning is just hanging at the top of your head. And the thought of a prince—or at least a guy—having to save or just even touch me made me want to retch.

Holding back a shudder, I engaged my Swatch earpiece. As the only girl in the Mazur clan, I was used to being around boys, bullying or not, but that didn't give me exclusion not to be annoyed by them.

"Good twin calling evil twin. My lead's getting warmer. I'll be there in T minus five minutes, I guess, if you give me enough credit to use my throwing blades as a perfect dramatic entrance."

My name is Rose Mazur, but I prefer to use my mother's last name, Hathaway, to stay out of range from zealous hordes of politically hungry people. In case I forgot to mention, Yilmaz is my brother, not my twin, and we don't get along well. He is my half-brother to be exact and he is just a shy of being ten years older than me, which makes my father almost fifty years old. My father may be nearly of that age, but that guy had serious guts for an oldie. Of course, that oldie was a famed dictator with a healthy life style (I swear that guy eats whatever his health manager tells him to, the only thing that isn't healthy for him was his anti-social-ness). I'm still seventeen years old, but I can pack a punch as hard as, well, as hard as Yilmaz, the stubborn Turk. If you can overlook my big brown eyes and athletic physique, you could probably see mischief battling inside my brain like Trojan War all over again. I have conflicting interests of being ambitious and being sloth-touched at the same time. I like to keep my dark hair long, even when it's opposed to father's references in looks. But hey, I'm a girl, and she's gotta have a little vanity for her to survive. Not that I was vain. I wasn't. Vain, I mean.

Yilmaz's voice through the earpiece was like miasma on a wonderful sunny day. "I don't trust you with blades, Rose. Your lead's still cool; the GPS says you're still a block away. Don't you think I'll know whether you're showing off or not? Or, at least, _trying_ to show off?" His tone was too damn smug and I could imagine that smirk on his face. Damn him. Damn him to the deepest pits of hell.

I gritted my teeth. "You put a tracking device on me?" My voice was sharp, but not betraying any hint of anger, only immense annoyance.

I heard Yilmaz's amused chuckle. "Oh, no, of course not. The earpiece you're wearing releases enough signal for me to pick up in a thunderstorm. You're legend in the GPS is glowing, alright."

With barely controlled anger, I growled and took off the earpiece off and stomped on it until it was no more than good old plastic Swatch. It took everything I had not to spit at the crushed earpiece. "Eat that, Yilmaz." I snarled and continued to walk down a block, following where my instincts brought me. My instincts were a trial-and-error machine, but it didn't fail to not disappoint me, or father, for that matter.

My communicator beeped once, telling me that I had successfully pissed off the stubborn Turk. Good. Let him be mad at me, and I hope he stays mad. It was bad enough that he tried to be nice to me during my sixteenth birthday and brought me a cupcake with a candle lighted on it. It was sickeningly sweet, the cupcake. Much like his smile, sickening.

I heard voices nearby, and I pressed my back on a concrete wall to stay out of sight. It was, I thought, a deal of some kind. And they weren't even lowering their voices. Oh, how rude of them. Must be those brainless mafias again. Drug dealers, addicts.

I hadn't quite noticed until a few minutes later that the light drizzle had turned into a full-blown down-pour when the voices hushed and were replaced by a blatant noise of rain hitting on roofs and grounds. In the year 2056, you think everybody now would have learned how to make cities giant domes to avoid merciless weather changes. Of course not, people nowadays depended only on politics. And politics were led by cowardice leaders. Cowardice leaders depended on money. And money is spent on drugs and dealings in the black market or paying for surgically beautiful concubines. Believe me, I know enough to mentions some names.

I cursed and slipped out of my so-called hidey-hole and perused my surroundings. There was no one around except for wet, black and definitely wet surroundings. _And_ a steel ladder that was high enough to make the Eiffel tower look short and minuscule.

I had bravado and I intended to use it as often as I could. I took a deep breath and, praying to Jesus that I would make it up there alive, put my foot on the ladder, testing its strength. I made an experimental jump, and the ladder didn't even shake. I started to go up and I could hear my communicator go _beep, beep, beep_ in my leather jacket. I ignored it and climbed faster. The rain and thunder was unnerving me, and the ladder wasn't exactly dry and not slippery.

The sound of thunder, an outburst of electrical shocks and the loudest booms of drums, sounded out of nowhere. And, apparently, the lightning had struck at the Empire State Building, which was just near my sight, no more than two kilometers away. The lightning that struck the Empire State Building had caused quite a ruckus, I didn't bother to think twice whether the rogues were there at the top or not. They made little screaming sounds like mad school girls. They were there, I knew. The way they swore like sailors, it had given them away.

My communicator beeped again. I shrugged it away and perused my way up the slick ladder. Finally, when I was up, another lightning stroke, and it was louder and even brighter than last time. I could barely hear the oaths the rogues made as I made my way behind a rusting water tank on top of the building. There was, naturally, a ladder that led up to the tank's lid. I climbed up, not thinking of the consequences or the storm. I had a job to do, and I could only finish that job by eradicating these rogues. And in eradicating, I meant putting behind bars in a high-security jail called Tartarus. Very fitting name for a jail, I thought.

I overlooked the rogues at my position on top of the tank. There were five of them, seeking shelter under metal roof supported by four wooden poles that weren't holding up pretty well in the storm.

My hair tangled in a wet mass at the nape of my neck and I purposefully hacked off the band and tied my hair again, tighter.

The men were drug addicts, the simple kind of mafia, but these guys had a streak on them. It was like they were here for another purpose, not inhaling those cokes. Ugh, I always hated looking at anybody inhaled something solid or semi-solid through their nose. It was…revolting.

I took out my communicator and saw transmissions from Yilmaz and Brody, a huge American body builder who's prided himself in being self-righteous. Yeah, self-righteous, as in stick up his ass self-righteous.

I sent back Brody's transmission and connected. Brody answered quickly, his hologram on my communicator unclear through the rain.

The audio of my communicator was probably broken because static was up and about and I could barely heard what Brody was telling me. He had that look on his face and chilled me to the bones.

"—down!—" static crackled. "—lightning!"

I frowned at the communicator and said, "Brody, they're here, up the building in sector twenty-seven-three. I think you've gone overboard with this bait thing. I don't think—"

Brody's panicked expression was the last thing I saw before the lightning hit me.

It was like being hit on the head with a sledge hammer times ten, and a hundred thousands of tasers at the same fucking time. Christ, it hurt.

The last thing I thought before I blacked out was whether or not Yilmaz would stop being such an asshat and let me use my blades already.

**Oh, God, I felt like a ninety year-old antelope.**

My body—ow, it hurts just to even think. What the heck was wrong with hangovers? I'm never going to get drunk again, promise. This was the worst hangover I ever had. My head was pounding and I could barely feel my limbs. Oh, my limbs, are you all complete? I tried to feel or touch my limbs but the only thing I could muster up was a twitch of my finger. I don't know which finger, but I figured it'd be my middle because I was way beyond pissed at how I had gotten so drunk.

I tried to open my mouth to speak up but nothing happened. Holy cheese in a cracker, I'm paralyzed! Dang…

I heard a click and then my thoughts melted into a deep vertigo of sleep.

**The time I finally woke up from my deep vertigo of a sleep was when somebody was shouting.**

And, oh yeah, that somebody was Yilmaz. It was clear, just from that ridiculous accent of his. No offense.

"—fed up with this! Pull the plug; we're wasting money over her! She's never going to wake up!"

Jeez, how harsh could this götveren of a brother could be? I was just sleeping off this fucking hangover! I wasn't struck by some stupid lightning or something!

Or, wait, was I? I pondered that for a second, but just thinking made my head throb like a motherfucker.

Nasty words were said in Turk. "She's my daughter, Yilmaz, I am not going to give up on her." Father. It was father. "Not when there's still hope. I'm not going to lose her like I lost Janine."

Oh, boo-hoo, how dramatic this scene is. Unfortunately, it's time for me to break it up. I reminded myself to be careful of myself because I was so sensitive from the hangover, but quickly shoved the thought away. Being _careful_ made me shudder. Our lives barely touched the concept of carefulness.

The first words that left my mouth didn't even surprise me. "Yilmaz, you son of a bitch, why don't you shut the fuck up, you're making my fucking head pound." The words were clipped and annoyed.

Both voices quieted down and I could hear muffled laughter. I opened my eyes to see an IV. Realization hit me.

"Oh, don't tell me I'm in a fucking hospital."

I didn't even notice that there was a nurse in green scrubs beside me before she spoke. "Such colorful language, Miss Mazur." she said in a calming yet chastising tone.

I looked up at her and bit back a retort. What I saw behind her was made me swear, and it was just as colorful as before. My wrist didn't only have an IV, but I also had a heart monitor and those famed machines that pick up brain waves and activities. Wait, wait, wait. Brain waves?

I reached for my head and felt…nothing. My hair was gone. I was bald.

That's when I got teary and emotional. I had a really close relationship with my hair. And I can't be _bald_! I just can't be! "What happened to my hair?"

The nurse's features softened. "You were hit by lightning, Miss Mazur." she said. "You were lucky to even survive with that strong a lightning. Not to mention that you were wet from the rain when you were hit—water's a conductor. The hair fall is only a minor side-effect, Miss Mazur—"

"Hathaway." I interjected, trying my best to hold back tears. God, was I vain. I was crying over for my hair. Eck!

"Miss Hathaway," the nurse applied. "as well as the third degree burns that marks your wrist and your nape ending at the middle of your back."

I bolted right up, and I swear the lights flickered. From the corner of my eye, I saw the brain wave machine go nuts. "What do you mean?" I asked the nurse, my voice stone cold. I looked down at my wrist and saw a thin red scar circling my right wrist, and a thick scar was deeply embedded on my left wrist where my metal cuff used to be. "Where the hell's mom's bracelet?"

Strong warm fingers linked on mine. It was father's. I looked at him and saw sorrow in his hard features. "It melted _kiz_. Don't worry; I'll buy you another one."

I took my hand away from his and crossed it on my chest. "I don't want another one." Shoot, I hate it when I sulk. A small part of me felt warm that father cared so much, but I squashed it mercilessly, not wanting any more reason to be emotional and give Yilmaz the satisfaction to see me that way.

I looked back up at the nurse. "Anything else?"

The nurse frowned a little. "Well, since you are the first person hit by lightning after the devastating storm in 2012 and survived, we will see whether you have some neurological side effects or none. We will hold you for another week for tests and surveillance."

"Another week." I murmured. "How long was I out?" I asked.

"Nearly a month now."

I blinked up at her. "I missed Christmas?"

The nurse smiled at me. "No. It's still the twenty-first of December."

Weary, I lay down on the uncomfortable bed. Ugh, hospital bed. I'm not sure if I can live another week in this hell hole.

I tried to lighten my mood by making jokes. "Well, if I didn't miss Christmas, then I want a wig for my present." It didn't help, only brought back my black mood.

And then suddenly, it was like I was hit by lightning all over again.

"You blew it, Rose! The mission, you didn't know how important that drill was. You knew that those dirty mafia leaders were investing drugs and guns from the black market, and you didn't even bother to contact us. _Why_ in the hell did you have to climb up that fucking water tank and let the lightning hit you?"

My eyes flew open and I turned my scintillating glare toward Yilmaz. My temper flared and I barely noticed the light flickering. "Well, I'm sorry that I got struck by lightning, _Yilmaz_." I could feel energy crackle around me. I stood up from where I was and slowly walked up to Yilmaz, who had a scary look on his face. "I'm sorry that you were too stubborn to follow father's orders, and made me bait." I held my hands in fists at my sides and I could barely hear The Men swearing and the nurse calming me down, and father telling Yilmaz to back off. "And I'M SORRY THAT I JUST DIDN'T DIE!" I screamed the words, and like that, something snapped in me, and I heard explosions and the lights going off. Only blue lights flared like crazy at my back.

I turned to look at the brain wave machine. The brain waves—_my _brain waves—were going nuts and were formed just like lightning. Harsh, sharp crooked lines and soft ocean waves were animated on the blue screen, it was…

"Oh, my." The nurse said from a short distance. "This is fascinating." she said.

The burn at the back of my neck that ended at my back burned like crazy and I hissed. Suddenly, my knees buckled, and I felt tired. Too tired.

I blacked out. Again.

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	3. Chapter 2

**It feels good to update. Thanks for the FFers who reviewed and read.**

**Enjoy this chapter :))**

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**Chapter Two**

_**One year later…**_

Sympathy was never my strong suit, but this guy, a German named Günter, was the one who swamped me with that one emotion I have rarely felt. The man was pale and weak from the maiming Yilmaz put on. I shouldn't have tolerated such ways of interrogation if he wasn't a rogue we caught mugging.

"Tell me one last time, Günter, where do you fucking invest and hide these drugs and guns. And who do you work for?" Yilmaz's yell was too loud, making my nerves jerk.

It was just a year after the drill that sent Yilmaz on edge. It was the biggest case of investing illegal weapons, probably to terrorists, and drugs to politicians. Yilmaz had been very obsessed in solving the case. It was our first year anniversary in handling the case, and still, we weren't even close to solving it. Yet.

The man looked up at my relentless brother. "I told you, I don't work for anyone! I don't invest—I only smuggle and trade what is mine!" Overhearing the fear, I could hear the truthfulness in his words.

Yilmaz gave a harsh laugh and jerked Günter's head back by pulling his hair harshly, putting a knife just a touch away from his throat. Günter swallowed and closed his eyes, ready to die.

"Amputation, anyone?" Yilmaz asked as he brought the knife to one of Günter's fingers.

The Men didn't say anything, just stood stiff.

Okay, I decided. This was just too much. Yilmaz was just too much.

With speed, I knocked the knife away from Yilmaz's hand. He looked up, his eyes spitting black flames at me. "This is enough." I said in a steady voice. "You know that the man doesn't know anything. Stop this now." I told him, a harsh whisper. "It's not you, Yilmaz. Don't do this, it is not normal. You're obsessed."

Yilmaz's lips lifted into a sneer. "Our lives have never been normal, Rose." The sneer disappeared, replaced by a very blank expression. "And I am not obsessed with anything. At least not yet."

"Don't say that." I told Yilmaz. "You say that you aren't obsessed, but look at you—"

I didn't have time to finish my statement. Yilmaz, my own half-brother, lunged at me, snarling oaths that made me sound like a petty imitator. I had no choice. I decked him. Hit his balls, and manifested enough electricity to shock him. His black eyes widened and he staggered until he fell to the floor.

I signaled The Men to take care of Yilmaz. It has been his third time since last year that he had his dangerous tantrums, but I still wasn't used to it. It still shocked me that Yilmaz would hit a girl, especially his own half-sister.

"Lock him in his room. Give him sedatives if he doesn't calm down. And call father." I ordered to Brody. He nodded, and, with the other goons struggling with a hysterical Yilmaz, exited the torture chamber. Yeah, you heard me right, torture chamber. Very medieval-ish for such a modern world.

I pulled off the restraints from Günter and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You were frightened." was all I said to him before the enforcers from Tartarus came and left with him.

I sighed and got out of the chamber. The chamber always gave me the chills, and I probably know why that it did. Numerous men and even women had been tortured there, to confess when they went too far out of the law; the Ethics needed confessions from the people who committed the crime themselves. Some were even given their deaths there. It was a horrible sight to see when you were about to die. Me, I prefer to die in a decent place where there were decent donuts.

I pressed my palm against the palm analyst, and the metal doors opened. I stepped inside the Agency's front lobby, avoided people, and exited the lobby and checked my mail drop-ins. Even in 2057, mails carried by couriers were still a hit, and it was never worn out. Usually, I received constant snail mails from an intel in Tartarus, sending me private reports about criminals and their various whereabouts. You must think I must be cruel to have an inside intel in Tartarus, but it's legitimate. At least for me.

I was surprised to have two mails on my box. One was from my intel in Tartarus, and one from a very prestigious academy in Montana. I haven't heard a lot about this academy, but just from the name, it was pretty prestigious.

Looking around, I opened my mail from the school and brought out a HoloPad. A HoloPad was a gadget used to emit holograms and send transmissions to. And HoloPad only sends recorded holographic transmissions.

I pressed play on the HoloPad.

A stern-looking woman with glasses squinted at me.

"Miss Hathaway," the hologram addressed me in my preferred last name. "The Academy is delighted to invite you in our school—" blah blah blah.

On and on the woman went. She never had anything interesting to say, before she got to the training part.

"The trainings are for young adults, like you, how to handle _special_ abilities you have." She had mentioned. Before the transmission broke off, the last thing she said had me doubting whether I was the only one who had weird abilities.

"Your fellow young adults will be expecting you."

**As far as I was concerned, nobody cared whether I left the clan or died.** After all, I was a girl, merely inconsequential if lost to the family. My family—the Mazur clan was made out of men, all eligible bachelors, and preferred to rut with surrogates than to have personal relationships with women. I didn't know why, but my father seemed the only one who did like women. Too much, though. My mother, Janine Hathaway, had only been twenty when I screamed my way out of her womb. She had been too young to be a mother then, and much too inexperienced to face the wrath of the Mazur clan. Somehow, my mom died, and some part of my father died along with her. He had locked himself away, only communicating us through brief private meetings. He had cut off his relations with the other clan members except for the ones who stayed loyal to father. He also changed his religion.

I always remind myself this like a prayer: Trust is not a luxury we can easily afford.

Father had been incommunicado for a few weeks now and it would be a miracle for him to show up at my doorstep. Not that I expected him to be at my doorstep.

Bu there he was. Sitting on the steps to my door, overlooking everything, his eyes just as blank as his expression. I approached him slowly.

"Father, I wasn't expecting you."

Father looked up at me and gave a little but empty smile. "I heard you were leaving for the Academy."

I blinked at him. "Sounds liked you know the Academy."

He nodded. "I donate cash there from time to time."

"Seriously?"

He nodded again, a small spark, nearly unnoticeable, lit up his face. It was a spark that I know too well. "My alma mater."

I frowned. I should have known. "I'm moving out this afternoon. You sending me off?" I asked, hopeful.

"No," he said and I was a bit disappointed. "I was just here to give this to you." He handed me a gold Visa card that had my name on it.

I was a little horrified at the sight of it. "No, father, you don't have to."

The stubborn set of his jaw reminded me of Yilmaz. "Nonsense. Take it, Rose, you deserve it."

Knowing that I wouldn't gain anything in arguing, I took the card reluctantly and slipped it at the back of my pocket. I was purposely being careless, hoping I'd lose or break it so I wouldn't have any excuse to use it. I know, it was rude for doing that, but I didn't want father's money. I had my own.

"I know that look." Father said, a hint of amusement lighting his eyes. "I know what you're thinking, Rose. You're thinking about being purposely reckless so it will accidentally break, so you can't use it." He surprised me by chucking my chin. "You should know that your money in paper is not as unlimited as credit, Rose. Keep it and use it wisely."

Surprising me all over again, father bent to kiss my forehead, and then turned without looking back at me. The last thing I saw was his flashy red scarf before I rushed into my apartment.

"**I kind of feel mulish today."**

"You are always mulish, my friend." Jerry, my taxi driver friend, said from the front seat with a tilt of his lips.

"I feel so loved, Jerry, I do." I said, sweetness dripping on my voice.

Jerry caught my eye on the rear-view mirror. "Are you?"

I had an inkling suspicion that this wasn't about sarcasm anymore. I gave him a blank look and looked away and into the wilderness that surrounded us. It wasn't a surprise that I had never been with anyone who loved me. Well, not like father didn't love me, but he had to because I was his daughter. The only thing my father showed he loved me was when he sent me a Hallmark card saying Happy Sixteenth Birthday with a small note at the bottom saying "I will always love you, kiz. Have fun." With the card were 500 Turkish lira.

Minutes later, we were in the middle of the Montana Mountain and all but trees were surrounding us. No sign of any building or some sort. Jerry stopped and looked ruefully back at me.

"This is as far as I can go, my friend." He told me. I paid him, but he shook his head. "My treat. Good luck in the Academy, my friend." Leaving me with my duffel and my rollers, Jerry took off with a friendly honk of his horn. I turned my back and scrutinized the trees.

"Now what?" I said to myself.

Just when I was about to give up searching and send an annoyed transmission to the school, I heard footsteps. Quick ones, sounded like someone was running on dry leaves. And there were giggles too. Female laughter. Crap.

I looked around, looking for the source of the sounds. "Hello?"

A giggle sounded out of nowhere, and dry leaves cracked. Bushes moved. I scanned the area but there was nothing, only trees. As more giggles and footsteps sounded, I got more and more irritated. My hand cautiously lifted to my holster where I secretly put my throwing daggers. Yeah, yeah, I know, holsters are for guns, but I hate guns. I'm not an expert shot, but I like to call myself a decent one.

I dropped my duffel bag and slowly scanned the perimeter. I looked behind a tree and was startled when a strong breeze passed by me, and footsteps could clearly be heard. The breeze smelled like perfume. Victoria's Secret.

I followed the path where the breeze had led, tracing the strong scent of Victoria's Secret perfume. And then, the next thing I noticed was that everything was getting darker. Crapshit, I needed to trace back my steps, and send a transmission to school.

As I was heading back to where my bags were, I heard footsteps again, closer. Reflexively, I brought out two throwing daggers, and faced back to where I traced the scent of perfume. Laughter exploded, clearly feminine, and it brought birds flying away from the trees. I scanned again, my heart beating madly. I wouldn't have seen it if it weren't for the movements it made while it walked. It was barely a figure because it was transparent. Very transparent. It got nearer and grew shapelier. It looked like a person. I squinted to look at the figure. It raised a hand as if to say hi. I raised my dagger in warning.

The figure-person held up both hands, and then the air around it seemed to shimmer. And then a girl appeared. She was short and stout. I couldn't figure out what was the color of her hair because she was standing in line of a beam of light that escaped from the trees' leaves. Her skin was dark, reminding me of a land of golden fields where the sun was at its peak. She wasn't pretty or beautiful, but she looked ordinary enough not to be gloating bitch.

Whoa, talk about judging the book by its cover.

The girl's upraised hands gave me the sign of peace. "Peace, hoy!" she said.

Cautious, I dropped my raised hand that held the dagger. "Who are you?"

"Your jeepney to the Academy." she answered me in a blithe tone. She had a slight accent I couldn't identify. Much like Irish, but not.

The girl made a big show of rolling her eyes. "Yeah, you know, the Academy where—um—_naa ang imong mga_ fellows!"

I frowned and gave her my what-the-fuck look.

"Sorry. I don't speak English well. I'm not American. I'm Pinay."

Whatever Pinay was, I didn't let her see my confusion. I shoved my daggers back to my holster.

"Name?" the girl asked me, carrying a sheet of paper.

"Hathaway, Rose."

She scanned, and then nodded. "Come here, Rosemarie. _Adto na ta's_ Academy."

Whatever she said…whatever.

"Wait, I gotta get my bags."

The girl whirled to face me again, and walked up to me. "I'll escort you there." was all she said before we walked up to where I left my bags. When we got there, my bags were nowhere to be found.

"What the fuck?" I walked up to where I exactly left my bags and savagely scanned the perimeter to see if anyone had gotten it.

"Wait, wait, wait." The girl said, pushing me away from where I was, and crouched on the ground where I had left my bags. It took me a while to see that there was some kind of symbol on the ground. Some symbol written by—oh, no, not written, but it looked like it was carved, with the hardest of stones. It first looked like a symbol but from the haze of the drawings, words were there.

VLADIMIR ROCKS, HATHAWAY SUCKS!

"Bloody hell!" I cussed, and the girl hushed me.

"You shouldn't _pamalikas_ too much." The girls said and touched the carvings on the ground and then just like that, the words and drawings vanished. She stood up from where she was.

"How the heck did you do that?"

"It's called Camouflage."

For my sanity's sake, I didn't bother to ask again. "Who's Vladimir?" I demanded, angry.

She gave me with a funny look. "Didn't you know? It is the Academy's name."

We started walking to where she shimmered into existence.

"Where are my bags?"

"You don't have to worry. It's at the Academy already."

"Where the hell is this Academy?"

"Inside the Camouflage."

"You mean on the ground?"

The girl heaved a sigh and looked at the sky, murmuring something I couldn't understand. From the looks of it, she was praying for mercy. After she was done praying, she looked at me with a patient look. "Wait and see."

She reached out a hand in front of her and then just like before, her hand shimmered out of existence. "There. _Mao na'y_ Camouflage."

I gave her a blank look and reached my own hand. My hand didn't end up de-shimmering like hers did, but my hand touched something cold and gelly. Like gelatin.

"What's this?" I asked her.

"That's the shield. You can't get in without permission."

"You mean like a force field?"

"I don't know what that means, but yes, I think so."

I took my hand away from the invisible gelatin and crossed my arms on my chest. "Can we get inside now?"

"Of course." she said and took my hand. Without warning me, she pulled me inside…_something_. And then the next thing I knew, I was in a yard filled with people. Well, if you call fire-wielding demons and armor-clad archers _people_. They were people, alright, but they were _not_ normal.

The not normal people looked like they were having fun. The pyromaniacs playing with fire, literally, and the archers were having a drill. A sergeant-looking girl with flaming red hair was directing the archers' aims by pointing. The girl probably didn't expect us there because she pointed at where we were standing, the girl and I, and the archers aimed…

"Hala..." The girl said.

…and fired.

Barely understanding what was happening, adrenaline surged within me like it always had when I was taken by surprise or panicked. Everything went into slow motion. The arrows flew to my direction slowly, it looked ridiculously like in the movies. Reflexively, I raised my hands, but not to cover myself, but raised my hands as if daring the arrows to come nearer. Beckoning.

Three seconds passed of slow-mo, the arrows aimed full-speed at me. Something in me snapped, and the arrows stopped flying toward me, and energy crackled between me and the arrows. The energy I manifested rendered the arrows to a halt, and then, shocking me, electricity crackled on the arrows, and the metal tips of the arrows melted, and then just like that, the arrows dropped to the ground.

Cool dramatic entrance, Rose. Way to go.

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**I hope there's nothing wrong with the chapter. It's been in my netbook for weeks, and I couldn't wait to update it. I made a strict schedule of updating. I UD every chapter when I finish making two other chapters of the same story. I can't say the same about my other stories, though. _Beautiful Stranger_ is currently on hold, although I am in the grips of making a chapter _still_**.** I'm sorry if all of you are disappointed or mad, but school's been hard and I can't concentrate in too many things at once. I'm writing _"When Lightning Strikes"_ as my pastime and writing has been my hobby since two years, or less, ago. Writing takes me out of the stresses of the real world.**

**xOxO,**

**K8  
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	4. Chapter 3

**Just read the first four chapters of Last Sacrifice. A little spoiler—Rose is seeing some ghost-somes… Creepy. Sorry, I'm gloating. Kind of. I know some of you are wondering whether Dimitri/Adrian/Lissa/Christian are here, and to answer your question-YES! They are! The story won't be complete without them.  
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**ENJOY!**

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**Chapter Three**

**The redhead sergeant was mad-angry at me for ruining her best arrows**. Said they were titanium-tipped. Yeah, as if titanium could melt.

"What the hell were you thinking coming here during my drill? You shouldn't have been there, and now look at my arrows! They're ruined! And you—" Red shot me a murderous glare that would have sent a horse dead-flat on its face. "—_you _rookie, I'm going to report you to the—"

"Morgana, there's no need for that." A guy wearing a dark cloak said. Whoa, cloak? "She was only defending herself." The guy's tone was very persuasive, I should have been surprised to see that he and Morgana looked pretty much alike.

Morgana growled at the guy. "Shut up, devil's pawn, I don't need your persuasive advice." Whoa, venomous girl, that Morgana.

Beside me, the girl who could pass through Camouflage was quiet. But it looked like she wanted a verbal battle more than I wanted to shut the redhead up. Feisty, this girl.

"I forgot to ask. What was your name?" I asked her, trying to ignore the redhead and the other guy's persuasive tone.

She looked up at me, and cocked her head, telling me to follow her. I did. We slipped out of the argument between the cloak-guy and Morgana. When we were luckily out of sight of the arguers, the girl spoke up.

"My name's Jessica, but they call me Laguardia."

She pronounced it like _lag-war-jah_.

"Laguardia's a cool name." I said absently. I was busy coping with the idea that there were people unlike me, but still like me Weirdoes. It was like _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ all over again. There were people no older than me making eccentric motions with their hands, and it looked like—no, the rocks were moving with them. There were also huge animals, a pack of them, consisted of lions, wolves, coyotes, and a panther.

"It's my last name."

"Cool. Those pets?" I pointed at the large pack of felines and canines.

She laughed and shook her head. "Dili uy! Those are werebeings."

I stopped dead on my tracks. "What?"

"Werebeings." she repeated. "They prefer to call themselves _therions._"

"You mean, like, werewolves?" I asked her, disbelieving.

"Yeah. Like werewolves." she replied, somewhat in a bored tone.

We passed by a huge lake where people were wielding water, and we ducked as they aimed at us. Somehow, we stayed dry and unscathed for the rest of the tour. We were now inside the Assembly Hall where it led to numerous cabins. Yeah, again with the paleo-lifestyle. The Academy was big, very big, and I was starting to think that the sole purpose of the Academy wasn't only academics.

We passed by a greenhouse where young agriculturists were wearing goggles, lab coats, and gloves. And what grabbed my attention were the plants. They weren't exactly normal plants. They were like mini Venus Fly-traps, snatching and snapping their mouths at everywhere. Whoa, crazed plants. Were there zombies, too?

"What's next? Zombies? Necromancers?" I asked, tracing a finger on the greenhouse's glass, making the mini Venus Fly-traps turn their heads and bite at the glass where my finger stroked.

"If you like, I could take you to Temple of Hades, but I don't think Vessel is going to be there."

I scratched my head and said nothing. We walked; saw more and more unbelievable things like kids with wings and a war between silver and gold teams. Their weapons looked lethal—glowing green balls coming out from plasma-rays. I saw a glowing green ball fly toward a tree and melted the wood. From the tree, I swear I could see something separate from it. A girl with curly green hair was there, glaring at the guy who blew the ball. Crazy Academy, this.

"That girl is a dryad." Laguardia pointed at the girl with curly green hair.

"This Academy is seriously screwed up." I shook my head and tried not to wince as the sounds of guns shooting. From out of nowhere, bird kids came flying out of nowhere. They looked more like death angels than birds. They had wings, dark and lethal. The wings looked like it was made out of metal, which probably was true because when some guys started shooting, they armored themselves with their wings which made metal clangs as bullet hit them.

"Those wings are our newest inventions." Laguardia said, a hint of pride lacing her tone.

"You help make that?" I asked her, surprised.

She smiled. "We all help in the Academy. Cooperative as always. Except Morgana, of course. Always the Queen Bitch."

"No shit."

We shut up. I was too curious to shut up, though. "Who was that guy with the cloak?"

"Oh, that was Mason Ashford, Morgana's twin."

I shut up.

We continued our tour until the sun was setting. I was tired from the tour because we never stopped and always walked. One time, I ended up falling in a manhole that was owned by territorial nymphs. I would have apologized if they didn't pull me in. Another time, I tripped on a net trap and was hung upside down. I got really annoyed and cut the net with my dagger. I fell. It hurt. Many laughed at me. I shocked them.

All in all, my tour was a progressive one. But it was after Laguardia had left me on my own at the front lawn that I remembered where the heck my bags were. As if everyone was screwing with me, a loud voice from a megaphone sounded from the bottom of a high flagpole.

"VLADIMIR ROCKS, HATHAWAY SUCKS!" Everyone laughed, and as if they knew me, they turned to me. Some murmured good lucks. Most of them murmured things in excited tones, slipping glances at me and walking off, giggling gleefully.

From the flagpole, there was a guy, a redhead in a dark cloak. The same guy who stopped Morgana from ranting my eardrums out. The hood on his cloak was down so now I could clearly see that he had pasty skin and startling electric blue eyes.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea when I walked up to the flagpole with an impassive look. He gave me a mischievous smile.

"Hathaway, you're first task from the Academy, to see if you're worthy." the redhead told me. "But from what I saw earlier, you had guts. Mind my manners, I'm Ashford—Major Mason Ashford."

There were _boo_s from behind me.

"Okay, okay," Mason said and rolled his eyes. "Let's start. You are to go up there or do whatever you like to retrieve your belongings from the top of the flagpole."

I looked up at the flagpole, and there they were. My two bags, floating up in the air, carried by a semi-transparent solid hologram. As I had said earlier, the school was old-fashioned, but not this flagpole. Nu-uh. It was run by electricity, and the holograms, were made out of green energy from the powerhouse at the back of the Academy. And if the Academy was clever enough, they wouldn't put the whole Academy's main switch at the powerhouse—putting main switches at powerhouses were awful clichés nowadays. I was a bit cheery that I was smart enough to analyze the situation quickly. The whole Academy barely had half my security system at my apartment, and it was a consensus to me that the main switch was anywhere but at the powerhouse. Therefore, the main switch was here. At the flagpole, the only bearer of enough green energy to supply the whole school.

I tested whether my conclusion was right or not.

I gripped the flagpole. It was cold but I could feel the energy beating like a live heart underneath. I looked at Mason. "How about we turn this off so we could off the hologram?"

Mason frowned. "Not a good idea. If you turn that off, you'll shut down the whole school."

I nodded, as if understanding. "And if it means getting my bags back and passing this task…" I frowned, feeling slightly foolish I haven't before tried to manipulate the flow of energy, but when I could manifest electricity by just using my mind, stopping the flow wouldn't be so bad. "…well…" I touched the pole, reaching out inside them and imagined sucking out the energy. I didn't know if it worked, but by the time I opened my eyes, my bags have dropped and the place was darker than before. There was no source of light.

The megaphone made an eerie sound that raised goose bumps on my arms. "Well done, Hathaway. Now, if you could just..."

He didn't have to say it. Something like a dam inside me broke and the electricity was back. Lights flickered to life, and the people surrounding the flagpole gave polite claps.

The scar at the back of my neck and back burned, and somebody had to catch me before I could fall flat on my face.

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**That's it for this week, folks! I know it's very short, but I promise I'll update soon.**

**xOxO,**

**K8**


	5. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the delay on the update, I had a quite a time management problem. I can't decide whether I read another book or write a chapter for my story(ies)—and I always end up doing one of them the **_**whole **_**weekend. It's a bad excuse, I know. I really have quite a low attention span, and I hate it. I can't seem to put my attention wholly on one thing. I am way beyond being antsy, and I do not like it.**

**BTW, I am disappointed that only a few are reading this story—not really what I expected. Oh well, I'm not always the sharpest tool in the toolbox, although getting only more or less six reviews each chapter is frustrating. But anyway, beggars can't be choosers, right?**

**Enjoy this chapter!**

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**Chapter Four**

**It was weird how I get all drained whenever I use too much of my "neurological side-effect."** It always started with the tingling at the back of my neck, then running down the middle of my back then both my wrists. But somehow, this time was different, there was no tingling, my scar from the lightning strike just burned as if lit with fire, draining me of all my remaining energy, rendering me unconscious.

By the time I woke up from my deep slumber to regain my strength, I was oddly aware of someone touching me. Or rather _something_.

I opened my eyes and took off the blanket from my legs and screamed. I screamed out of my mind. There were leaches crowding on my legs and the worst of it was they were sucking something—OUT OF MY LEGS!

I screamed and hysterically shook them off. I panicked and the leaches dropped to the floor, having been electrified.

An alarmed-looking girl in jeans and an eyelet tee got inside with a small version of a clipboard. If I wasn't so freaked out about the leaches I would have mentioned that the girl had a cat on top of her head. It jumped off, hissing and baring its fangs at me before it ran out to the night.

"Leaches!"

The girl reached toward me and grabbed my arms, calming me down. Or at least, trying to. "Ssshh… No, they're not leaches, they're just slugs. They help you relax and ease your—"

"No, they were leaches!" I insisted. "They were sucking something out of me and—"

"They were sucking away your stress, Rose. You don't have to worry about them." The girl's calming voice eased me a little bit, but leaches! I hated things that crawl, especially things that _try_ to crawl when they don't have legs. Or limbs.

"So you admit that they _were_ leaches!" I should say, I was being irrational, but those _things_ just creep me out. Some of them frightening enough to make me pee on my pants. Not that I would admit that, of course.

I looked at the girl and relaxed. It was like I was obliged to do so. Her pale jade green eyes were kind, and her hair was a billowing color of platinum blond. She looked like an angel.

"Who are you?" I asked the girl.

"I'm Vasilissa Dragomir. You can call me Lissa." she told me and dragged me back to my bed.

I sat on my bed and let her make a fuss on me.

"You're not American?"

"No, not really."

I decided not to push it.

"Sounds European." Still, I did.

Lissa shrugged. "Romanian."

"How long was I out?" I asked her, looking around me. I wasn't in an infirmary "And where am I?"

"You were out for almost an hour. And you're in our cabin. Cabin six at row four."

My stomach growled loudly. "When's dinner?"

She looked at her wrist watch and I couldn't help but envy her unscarred wrist. "About half an hour. We can go together if you like."

"Sure." was all I said. I brushed my hair. I was glad that my hair grew quickly because it would be a bad if I was here, bald and scarred. My hair was the darkest shade of brown, almost black, and just touched the tip of my shoulders. I didn't tie it back because it was still too short to be tied in a ponytail. Ever since spring, my birthday, my hair still hadn't grown much. I put on my headband and changed my clothes.

When I got back to my room, Lissa was there, putting tablets on my nightstand.

"You did a good job of retrieving your bags." she told me with a friendly smile. I decided that I trusted this girl, unlike Morgana, the Queen Bitch, as Laguardia would put it. "You have great powers. A true gift from the gods."

I scoffed. "It's a neurological side effect, Lissa." Somehow, her name slipped out of my mouth as if I had known her for all my life.

She opened her mouth to argue but I stopped her.

"For argument's sake, yes, it's a true gift from the gods, but it wipes me clean of my energy whenever I use it, so great gift indeed."

She gave me a knowing smile. "It's always like that. It's called balance. One person can't have too much power if they do not have some drawbacks."

"Yeah, and I didn't ask for these powers, but look," I raised my shirt and showed her my scar at my back. "it still cost me."

We were silent for a moment. A bell rang, indicating that it was time for supper. Whew, saved by the bell.

Lissa stood up and tilted her head to the door. "Let's go."

**It was intriguing how so many people were still battling outdoors. **

"If anything unusual or tragic happens, you shouldn't panic. Around here in the Academy, it's what we call normal. Although, you should watch out for some Academists." was Lissa's warning for me. In the main hall just in front of the numerous rows of cabins, students—Academists—were milling about, some chatting, and some pulling pranks. Gee, didn't they know better to behave?

We walked in the main hall, the buzz of the night normal—Academically speaking, that is (note the upper-case letter). Lissa was talking blithely about Academy life. She said she was a healer—a shaman, particularly. She can only heal by her touch, and like me, was easily drained of energy. But now, from a couple of years of practice, she could heal an hour nonstop without keeling over in a dead faint. She also worked as the nurse's assistant.

I didn't reveal much about me, not liking the idea of her knowing I was a Mazur. The Mazur clan, as you know it, was one of the most twelve powered clans in Europe and half of the Americas. I told her that I was struck by lightning a year ago, and probably would have died. I mentioned "died" as if it were normal.

Her mouth hung open when I mentioned about the power drain I made from the hospital last year.

"No. That's why you look so familiar!" she smiled and touched my hair. "Your hair grew."

I gave her my trademark what-the-fuck look.

"You weren't at the hospital." she said in a confidential tone. "You were here. You were brought here at the Academy's infirmary. You caused that power drain last year! Most of the lights exploded that day, and it took us about three days to fix the whole school."

I gaped. Lissa was saying it lowly, but I was still cautious enough to look around for eavesdroppers. Looked like no one was listening. Or interested for that matter.

"Really?" I was a fool when I nearly believed her.

"Yeah." she said and touched both my wrists. "You had third-degree burns. Left one thicker than the right. And your hair…" She gave me a sad smile. "I'm glad you survived."

I frowned, considering her. "I don't think I am."

"You should be." That was all Lissa said before we headed to the dining room again. I wondered if they called it dining room.

As we walked, I caught a glimpse of sandy blond hair. A guy was there, walking opposite away from where everybody was going. What unnerved me about was that he had his eyes on me, and from my experience of guys (inter-family), he wasn't interested in me in a romantic way. As what Lissa said, I didn't panic, but my instincts told me to get away. But before I could react, he had already passed by me, touching the bare skin on my arm as he passed by.

I collapsed and I let the black abyss drown me freely.

"**Rose! Wake up."**

Cold water splashed my face. My eyes flew open and I immediately wiped at the water on my face, gasping and looking around.

"What the fuck." I said when I found myself on the floor. And then I remembered that a guy with sandy blond hair had given me some kind of touch that, I don't know, let me fall asleep.

I looked around for the guy, furious.

"Hey, Rose, calm down. That was Edison, he just gave you the Death Touch." Lissa told me and helped me to my feet.

"You say it like he does that all the time."

Lissa nodded. "He does it all the time, don't worry."

My pride had already been bruised when I fell into that manhole, and got trapped by a net that sent me hanging upside down, I was not going to let some kind of pervert touch me and put me to sleep. I promised to myself that this Edison guy would get a taste of his own medicine.

**Supper was…well, I couldn't say it was normal, 'cause in the real world, it was normal**, but Academically speaking, it wasn't. I had just figured out that every cabin had four people living in them, and one of my roomies was Lissa and a girl who fought wars for a living. She said her name was Kendall, and she had a sister, also our roomie, named Krisitn. For organization's sake, each cabin had one table—a small square one with one chair at each side. All for us were already sitting and eating like the not normal people we were.

Krisitn and Kendall were sisters, but from the looks of them, it was doubtful. While Kristin was tall, blonde, gorgeous, kind of bimbo-ey, and loose-lipped, Kendall was petite, brunette, and a girl of few words. While Kristin spoke up her thoughts, Kendall kept it bottled up inside, and when the time comes; those pent-up somethings are not going to look pretty. I had enough of experience to know.

"It is such a _faaaan_ evenin'. _Ah_ wonder whether we're gonna have _ar_ yearly gladiator _fats_ again. Gladiators are just so _hot_!"

Did I mention they were from Texas? Yeah, they are. I could barely understand what Kristin was saying from her thick Texan accent.

Kendall said nothing, just forked on her uneaten broccoli. Speaking of food, all were healthy. Fruits and vegetables, there were barely even meats. Not that I eat too much meat, I don't. I just wondered…

"Hey, look, there's Liam." Krisitn said in her ever-perpetual cheery tone. I swear nobody could darken her mood. I mean, she's always smiling; it almost looked like it was permanent on her face. As she chewed on her food, she, too, was smiling. I wonder how she did that.

I looked at where Kristin was pointing at and saw a boy, just a boy, with a noticeable big head.

"Hey, Liam!" Kristin waved at Liam, very enthusiastic. Gosh, it looked like Kristin had a crush on the boy. The boy just looked like he hadn't hit puberty yet. The boy looked up from his food and gave Kristin a friendly wave back. A couple of boys about her age looked at Kristin, and looked back down at their food as if thinking "such a waste." From the looks of it, Kristin has turned down many guys, the way they shook their head, looking slightly embarrassed.

Kristin giggled and sat down again on her chair, finish waving at Liam. "Liam's the Academy's lab expert and physicist. He's, like, a genius in all things science." Kristin looked down and I swear I could see her blush. "He's only twelve, but I like him like crazy."

My eyebrows went up, about to comment how weird that was. But…I reminded myself that it wasn't my position to judge. After all, most of the women's mottos were "age doesn't matter."

"Good for you." I said, but I was still a little boggled that a girl like Kristin, beautiful and eerily stunning, had a crush on a kid. Not that the kid's nothing special, but the kid was a major genius—or so I heard. Still, a beauty queen could love a nobody. Saying that the nobody was an actual, honest-to-god Genius with the uppercase G. Wait, I'm just saying things over and over again. Maybe the food was affecting me. What did they put on their food here, anyway?

"He was the one who created the wings, and he told me that within a month, there will be ten more of 'em. Liam's so efficient when it comes to time." Her voice turned dreamy, so did her expression.

The light chatter of the dining room quieted as two tall forms both clad in cloaks entered the room with an air of power and what felt like reserved malevolence. Cloak Dudes, hoods up, had huge influence over the Academists because all of them muted and stopped what they were all doing and stood up from their seats and turned to face, whoa-ey, _thrones_. Actual stone thrones. Like in those Greek histories. They were honest-to-god thrones.

I stood up too, and looked at the Cloak Dudes. They were _not_ going to sit on those thrones. As if.

But, in the end, they did. There were three thrones; the one bigger than the two, was left empty. I frowned, wondering who sat there. Maybe some kind of High Priest like Alaric in Warriors of Poseidon. Or maybe the god himself. I mentally laughed, but couldn't help doing it in person. I covered it with a cough.

Lissa put a warning hand on my wrist. I appreciated her warning.

The two dudes put their hoods down. My first reaction was to drop my jaw, but I thought better of it. Men that wore cloaks were probably monks, but these guys, oh-ho, they _cannot_ be monks. They were too gorgeous to be monks—or priests. I wasn't aware of the people around me now, it was like I was entranced by the two dudes in cloaks.

The one wearing the dark-as-midnight cloak had a roguish beauty, cunning in its shape, and rash in its form, but nevertheless, beautiful as a god. It wasn't until seconds later that his gaze caught mine. The deceiving emerald green of his eyes rendered me almost paralyzed—he couldn't be human, was my immediate thought. Of course, I thought wryly, _nobody_ in this freaking Academy was fully human.

A sly tilt of his mouth told me I'd made myself look like a fool, but I didn't have quite lucidity to right myself.

I managed to avert my gaze to the other guy; he was definitely tall and muscular, wearing a cloak color of the sea. A harsh mixture of blue, green and everything in the middle. While Black Cloak had a roguish and careless beauty, this guy was all harsh and sharp lines and angles. Nothing deceiving about him. It all said it in his features that he was a warrior and he had no intention of restraining them. He, too, caught my gaze, but averted them quickly as if just to assess me. His eyes were dark, almost black in the pool of marble he was sitting at.

But just that fraction of a second when his eyes held mine, I felt the world stop, and begin to rotate slowly, as if letting me savor that moment where our gazes met.

My skin prickled, and I noticed that Lissa had pinched me.

"Any problem?" the voice came from Black Cloak. He had a slight accent. A mixture between American and Eastern European. It was barely noticeable. I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't been a European who recognized accents.

I looked away from the other guy and looked back at Black Cloak, who had an amused glint in his eyes.

"Question." I blurted out.

Someone tugged my hand from behind. "You cannot question the Vessel!" It was Lissa who hissed. I heard muffled laughter behind me.

Watch me. "Are you monks? Or priests?"

Black Cloak just looked at me. He and the other cloak guy exchanged brief glances. From those brief glances, I could almost feel their conversation. Yeah, it's weird when you _feel_ conversations instead of hearing them.

Their brief glances ended, and Black Cloak considered me, swept his eyes up to me from head to toe. He gave me that roguish smile again. "Yeah, we kind of are."

There were audible sounds of surprise inside the room. It was the confession that the Cloak dudes were like monks, or the crowd was just not used to the Cloak Dudes talking. I think it was the latter, though.

That smile again, his eyes the exact color of lit emeralds. "But we're not celibate." He said it like it was important information.

I found myself nodding, as if I already knew everything they said. "Yeah, I thought so."

Someone automatically pulled me down to my seat. "Are you crazy?" It wasn't Lissa or Kristin who said it. That only left Kendall. Kendall gave me a bland appalled look. Kristin was giggling, her face almost turning purple. Lissa stayed quiet, her lips pursed, as she looked at me. It was apparent that Kendall wasn't asking me a question; she was merely stating a fact, because her voice had no tone whatsoever at all.

I looked back at the Cloak Dude with the blue-green cloak. "I think I am." I said and I snapped back into reality. And noticed that almost everyone was gawking at me.

I edged closer to Lissa and whispered in her ear. "What's wrong?"

"The Vessels normally don't answer to anyone. Not anyone out of their league, anyway." she murmured back, looking at me like I grew a horn on my forehead.

Maybe I did.

I subtly rubbed my forehead, careful not to be too obtrusive. Luckily, there was no horn.

"Why are they looking at me like I did something wrong?"

"On the contrary, you did something…" she paused as if searching for the right word. "…outstanding."

I almost snorted. "Academically speaking, what does outstanding mean?"

"Remarkable. The Vessels carry glamour with them. All of us are unable to make direct eye contact with them without being hypnotized. From the looks of it, you're immune." Her hushed voice now held a hint of astonishment.

A dark thought occurred to me, making me forget about the guys in cloaks. "Yeah, but not immune enough to stay awake from _certain_ people." Again, the guy with the sandy blond hair pulsed through my dark thoughts. Christ on a cracker, I wanted so bad to get my revenge now. Putting me to sleep on the middle of the hallway. Gosh, that just pisses me off more!

He'll pay, I promised to myself.

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**Who do you think are the Vessels? What do you think Rose will do to Edison?**

**Reviews are wanted and appreciated.**

**xOxO,**

**K8**


	6. Chapter 5

**I was happy to read your reviews, guys. I'll be updating as soon as I get 60 reviews or more—you know how I love reading tactful and long reviews.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Five**

**One of my habits was taking a long cold shower before I slept.** It made sleeping easier and more comfortable. For half an hour I took a much-needed cold shower to cool my tangled nerves. You would think that taking a bath with me was a pressing matter because I could control electricity and manifest whenever I had the energy to, but no, it's not. On the contrary, I like to take baths, especially the cold ones.

After I took the shower, Kristin was at there at the sink, brushing her teeth. Just when I expected her to comment at how messy my hair looked, her eyes caught attention to her teeth, the bubbles a color of red or pink.

Her eyes widened. In delight. "Hey, look, I have pink saliva!"

Wow, the girl had a morbid sense of humor. "That's blood, you idiot." I said, just for effect, but what I saw next on the expression on her face got me startled.

The look of pure unbridled horror was on her face, showing me that I'd step on some line. And then, she fainted dead away. The thud was what brought Lissa and Kendall running toward the cabin's bathroom. I pulled Kristin's head in my lap, but Kendall pushed me away.

The look Kendall gave me should have had me staggering back. "What the hell did you do?" Her tone was as sharp as my daggers' tip. It cut right through my already tangled nerves.

I shook my head, quelling. "I did nothing. I just told her that there was blood on her mouth." Lissa was beside Kristin's unconscious form now, checking for pulse and did other things only nurses did.

"She has hemophobia, you idiot! You shouldn't have told her that!"

"I would have sounded stup—" The look Kendall had made shut me up. If I were to get along with people, I thought to myself, I should learn where to stop in an argument. I've grown up constantly arguing with Yilmaz from simple things like whether carrot was a vegetable or not to big things like whether to execute a rogue on spot or bring reinforcements. Mostly, I won. I would have been a good lawyer if I brought my arguing skills to better use.

I sighed and counted to ten. Patience, too, wasn't my strong suit. I was used to striking the first thing that got near me whenever I was mad. Which always seemed to be Yilmaz, but smiting girls when they're tempers are hot? No, thanks. Gosh, I sound like a gentleman.

The thought of Yilmaz brought back my memories to what life was like out there outside the Camouflage. Political war. Family dominance. Dictatorship. Broken ties. Betrayal. Violence. Hell, I was a Mazur, I shouldn't be treated this way, a part of me said, but I pressed that little part of me farther from my consciousness, knowing a little too well about what it would do to me if I would listen to that voice.

In a frenzy to stop my increasing anger, I picked up my clothes and threw them on, not bothering to look what I wore. The last thing I heard before I went out was to carry Kristin to bed.

**I haven't bothered to throw on a jacket before I left the cabin.** Most of the cabins lights were out now, but as I stomped by, they made a show of turning on and then off again. Such things were already familiar to me so I didn't give much of a glance, but there were some startled cries from what I left behind.

It was cold. Of course it was cold. I was in the damned Montana Mountain where the weather was completely cold in November! I was mad, I didn't know who was I mad at—myself, Kendall, or Kristin, but that didn't matter—I was just plain mad.

I stomped through the woods where I passed by a shallow creek. I stopped stomping and stood still on the old creaky bridge that adjoined the lands separated by the dismal creek. I felt ridiculous for having such short patience, and I felt way beyond pissed that I was even considering myself as being ridiculous.

If I wasn't so pissed I would have sighed. Proud, thy name is Rose Hathaway. At least, I reminded myself, I was not a spineless imbecile who hid behind puppies when the time comes for penance—I embrace punishment with open arms!

By the time I convinced myself that I had played a Good Samaritan role by storming out of the cabin before my temper exploded, the night had become quiet, almost peaceful. I hated to break the silence by taking another step on the creaky bridge, but I had no choice. It was very dark already, and I was groping around the place (it was the woods, I could tell) before I could make out a hint of light just in front of me. I sighed in relief and silently prayed that I could seek help there. Or rather, just steal the light away. Jeez, whoever told the Academy _not_ to get lamp posts was beyond my knowledge.

As I edged closer to the light, I noticed that it was not only one, but two lights. One at the far left and one at the right. It wasn't until I was approximately fifty feet away when I noticed that what I was approaching were shrines. Rather large shrines. They looked more like temples than shrines though. I'll call them large shrines to avoid cliché, but there would be a time that I would call them temple and that particular time would be time where I'm too lazy to think of them as "rather large shrines."

I was like a moth attracted to a brilliant ball of light. I couldn't stop looking and admiring at the temple-like shrines. The columns, which had to be Greek Ionics, were colored a dark shade of grey, not black. From the open space of the temple, I could see that only torches were lighting the place. Old-fashioned torches made out of plain wood and fire, not the modern artificial fires that spat light like firecrackers. The whole temple seemed to be devoted to one of the Greek gods because there, just at the front of the altar that had fresh, newly cut assorted sets of flowers in every hue of red was a marble stone, sitting, with what I could tell were ancient Greek writings—but who knew? For all I know, it might be a tomb. Just sitting below flowers were what I suspected were apples or plum, but in closer inspection, they were pomegranates. The symbol that the temple bore was etched in silver. It was shaped like a cross above a semi-circle, ending with a single point in the middle of the unfinished circle.

There were still lots of details I left out about the temple, but some of them were just beyond my capacity to describe them in words. Again, aside from the dark shades of grey for the columns, the temple seemed to radiate a sense of peacefulness. But I had a little feeling that I was only being hoaxed by the temple. Christ, was I paranoid or what? A familiar feeling of something like deception crept up to me. The familiarity of the feeling was either here or there, but I was too…bedazzled to comprehend.

A breeze cold passed by me and I realized that I had already taken several steps toward the dark temple. I wasn't aware that I was already moving but when I had enough presence of mind to stop myself, I was already on top of the temple's steps, facing what looked like a wild bouquet of wild red flowers and a big platter of pomegranates, raspberries, cranberries, and strawberries. And at the middle of the setting on the platter was a pure blood red apple. The forbidden fruit.

All I could think was how stereotypical red and dark colors were.

A low seductive laugh came out of nowhere. My eyes left the apple and went around the place. The place wasn't a fan on closed places so all I could see were the woods hidden in the dark moonless night. I looked at the altar and wondered what was back there. Back at the wall where what looked like ancient scriptures were written.

I shrugged, deciding that my luck would be pushed too far if only I push Kendall too far when it came to her temper. I strode toward the altar, sniffing lightly at the flowers, and continued my search for the source of the laughter.

I was right about looking at the back of where the altar was placed because what I saw there wouldn't have ceased to happen. And as for what was happening, _it_ shouldn't be happening inside a temple where chastity might be a strict law.

When I caught just a small scene of what was happening, I inadvertently turned back from them and strode off with a little more speed than necessary. Unfortunately, that didn't help me to keep down a low profile. I accidentally ran into something, or rather someone because it made a small noise of protest as I hit some significant part of its body. And that someone smelled bad.

"Whoa, buddy, ever heard of shower?" I asked as I looked at whom I had bumped into, pinching my nose.

What I saw in front of me would have sent me running for my life, but I stayed locked in my place, mere inches away from the lich whose jaw was hanging open, and its breath intoxicating the air with its nasty smell. Its two empty eye sockets glowed rusty red at me.

When I didn't make a move, the lich said something, but it sounded more like a growl. I swear, the look of annoyance passed through the lich's bony face, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived. He seemed to be arranging his jaw.

"Lady," it said in its throaty, hoarse voice. His breath fanned my face like a garbage truck would. "You are not permitted to enter the Temple of Lord Hades, God of the Underworld."

That was it, I lost it. Impulsively, my fist clenched tightly and without my express permission, it went up flying to the lich's face hard. The lich's head snapped and his neck broke. His neck, having been tied with some material like tissue, went untied. Its neck didn't look like it was broken for the first time, too.

Noises were there behind me but I was too dumbfounded to see who was making such ruckus. A scream came up eventually followed by what sounded like someone fainting hit my consciousness.

My shock had already ended and I was now shaking my head at the lich, which was standing up headless, and then picked up its head in a manner that would have told me of someone very irritated. It rearranged back its head and tied the tissue back.

"You are going to pay for that, lady." It told me in a menacing tone. "You will have my neck fixed. You will pay for a neck transplant." It threatened me, its eyes positively glowing red even though they were empty or any eyeballs.

And—neck transplant? Who knew there was such thing as a neck transplant? It might be 2057, but there was no such thing as a neck transplant.

"Gordon, stop threatening our guest." A voice from behind said. The oh so familiar voice with that nifty American laced with a little Eastern European accent.

The lich's jaw dropped more, its eyes returning back to its original color (I don't know what color it was, aybe black), as it stared at the person behind me. I looked back and saw a familiar set of brilliant green eyes. Black Cloak.

"But, but—" I heard the lich stutter. "She was trespassing, my Lord."

Black Cloak without the cloak gave me that roguish smile that fit him like a glove. "Maybe not. Like your spirit, you were drawn to the Temple of our Lord Hades. Maybe she, too, has come for my assistance, simply not trespassing."

The lich chewed on that for a moment. "Very well. I will see that my neck is braced well for next month. It is said that there will be a blizzard and I do not intend to lose my head again." It grumbled and limped back to where the hell it came from.

I looked at Black Cloak, suspicion etched in every contour of my face. "You don't expect me to be grateful for that, aren't you?"

"Oh, darling, I intend you to be very much grateful." Black Cloak said, something not good glinting in his eyes. "Liches are very dangerous creatures to anger. If I wouldn't have ordered Gordon to leave, he would have done the same to you as you did to him."

"Gordon's going to punch me with his bony little fists?" I asked sarcastically.

The roguish smile Black Cloak had given me was mild, but now, it turned up a notch and became a cruel smile. Be that as it may, he had a handsome face; and the smile fit him like everything else fitted him.

"No. He would decapitate you."

No shock, no anything. "I can't wait to see him try." I said dryly.

Black Cloak looked back at me and, finally, recognition dawned on him. "Ah, you must be the brave one." He said with a small quirk of his lips. "Rose Hathaway, I heard."

"And you must be the monk who isn't celibate." I cocked my head at the fainting couch at the corner where a girl with long lustrous golden brown hair lay. "From what I saw just a while ago, I blocked out the thought that what you said earlier was just a pick-up line."

His eyes burned t me like green flames. "Oh, but it was."

I gave him a smile, nothing so genuine, and held out my hand. Let's see if he could touch me, a person beyond his league. From what I saw earlier, it was possible.

"Let me formally introduce myself." I held out my hand. "I'm Rose Hathaway."

He didn't hesitate taking my hand, and was a bit disappointed that my assumptions were wrong. I expected his to shake it, but instead, he took my hand to his lips and kissed it. He held my hand with both of his almost reverently. "It is an honorable pleasure to meet you, my lady." Black Cloak made a small, old-world bow. "I am Adrian Ivashkov, the Vessel of the abilities of Lord Hades, Greek God of the Underworld."

"You're Romanian, too?" I asked, curious.

"If I were to be Romanian, my surname would not be Ivashkov, but Ibanescu or otherwise. I am Russian, and proud to be, my lady." Adrian made an exaggerated bow again.

I tugged at my hand that was still in his hold. "Call me Rose." I felt ridiculous being called "my lady" but from a guy like Adrian, it was nearly as flattering as being called beautiful.

"Okay, Rose. You can call me Adrian if you choose."

Utter silence. I shifted uncomfortably and took my hand away from Adrian's hold and unobtrusively shoved them inside my jean pocket. I remembered now that I only wore a midnight blue tank top and jeans. It was damn cold, alright.

As if reading my mind, Adrian said, "You must be cold." and held out a cloak to me. It was the same color as the cloak he wore before. He didn't give the cloak to me but put it on my shoulders without my permission.

"You do hit on a lot of girls for a monk." I noted, pointing at the girl with the gorgeous hair at the chaise.

As if he just remembered, he looked back at the girl. I mean, woman. The woman looked about she was in her early twenties, and was every bit as gorgeous as Hollywood stars. Or maybe she _was_ a Hollywood star. In closer inspection, my suspicions were cleared.

"Miranda Grant, the Hollywood star? Seriously?" I heard myself asking.

Adrian smiled and his eyes flashed at me. "I was courting her."

"Oh," I laughed. "From what I saw earlier, I don't think you were courting her at all. Seducing would be the right word."

He allowed himself a light chuckle. "Ah, yes, the steps you take to have a lover. It is most…arousing, the feeling." He said with a quelling look in his eyes.

"Oh, don't talk about that in front of me." I said lightly, but I was serious. Discussing _certain_ topics…I repressed a shudder.

"My apologies." Adrian said and turned back to Miranda Grant, sitting beside her unconscious form on the chaise. He stroked her hair, the look on his face not betraying anything but admiration. "She has already accepted to be my lover. I was the one who refused now."

My brows went up in surprise. "Not that if it's any of my business, but why did you? A Hollywood star for a lover would be every man's wet dreams."

He stopped stroking Miranda's hair and folded his hands on his lap. It was my first time to notice that he was wearing a pair of jeans and a black silk shirt. "In her dreams, I visit her every night and then summon her here to the temple." He started. "I started courting her just last week, if I recall correctly. She was a beauteous creature to behold, one that could sway my ways of the world today. Too beauteous a creature, one that I couldn't resist." He stopped and waved his hands above her body. Black smoke appeared out of nowhere, coiling on her slumbering body. And then just like that, Miranda disappeared.

"But just tonight," Adrian continued. "I had to tell her that my heart was set elsewhere." He looked at me; his eyes brighter than it had been before.

I frowned, confused as to where the discussion was going. Finally, I managed a lose-shouldered shrug. "So, you're really devoted to being a servant of the _Greek God of the Underworld_ to sway your way out of a gorgeous girl's French-tipped clutches." A person would have been deranged or dull if they didn't hear the quotations on the last few words.

Adrian's eyes dimmed and he seemed to withdraw. "I am not a servant; I am the Vessel of the great Lord Hades' powers. I wield and use what the Lord has given me and I will be eternally grateful for it." the words were clipped as if he was holding something back.

I shrugged again, looking indifferent. "If I had a choice, I would have liked to be as normal as I could be. Being able to wield electricity at your will…you can't really say it's cool and easy, especially when you're overwhelmed with emotions."

To my surprise, Adrian nodded. Adrian looked as stiff as a man who had a stick shoved up his ass. "It is true, we cannot control them at times of strong emotions, but you learn to tame them when the time comes." Adrian stood up and brushed his hands on his jeans. "That is why you are brought here in this Academy, to learn how to control them." Adrian's expression was cool and blank. He could make a good poker player.

"What do you know about powers? Mine, particularly."

"I assume that you came because you sought for light, not answers." was all Adrian said.

"Hey, don't turn your back on me. And don't change the subject either!" I called.

Adrian's head turned halfway, not meeting my gaze. I could only admire how handsome he looked at side view. He was handsome, sure, but I wasn't quite attracted to him. He was just, you know, handsome—no spark hit me like it said on books, no anything, just admiration to his great looks. "You cannot question a Vessel, Rose. Heed your friend's advice. Take a torch and return it at dawn before light comes." And with that, Adrian disappeared out of sight.

Well, he was pretty rude. And a show-off. Huh, who knew?

I took a torch from Adrian's (or was it Hades'?) temple, shoving the thought of burning the temple with the torch. I walked away the temple, but just as I was about to enter the woods where I had passed, I caught a sight of a man. He was very tall so he blended well in the trees next to the temple with white columns. I sought for him, but all I caught was the fabric of his clothing. Leather, I supposed. It was long, and brown, probably a coat.

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**So…who do you think was the tall man behind the woods? Why was Adrian so rude?**

**So many questions and still no answers. Put my story on alert and review!**

**xOxO,**

**K8**


	7. Chapter 6

**Hey, everyone! Happy holidays to all of you! How's your Christmas vacay doing? What did you get? Me? I got a guitar from my tatay, but guess what? I don't know how to play one. It seems like every time I touch the thing, it just goes haywire and doesn't let me play any chord. Damn instruments and their intricacy! Anyway, I have a Christmas present for all of you. I haven't gotten the desired review I wanted last week, so I'm updating now.**

**Enjoy everyone! :D**

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**Chapter Six**

**As promised, I returned Adrian's torch before dawn.** And I brought a handy flashlight with me; don't want to get lost during dawn—that would be embarrassing. I went up to Adrian's temple and saw numerous of things I haven't seen last night. On the woods were sleeping dryads. They were part of the wood, so I could barely identify them, but in closer inspection, it was a pretty sight. It was as if they were being hugged by the trunk of the tree. A dryad stirred in her place on the trunk, and I redirected the flashlight into the shallow creek. Just below the bridge that led to the temple was a deep creek, about four feet. There were naiads there, sleeping on the stones while the water hummed their lullaby. All in all, it was pretty cool. The Academy was cool. Still is.

Gordon was nowhere to be seen when I stepped into the temple. The temple looked exactly as it had been when I left last night. Torches burning, fruits laid on the altar, big bouquets of flowers, inscriptions in place, and empty of any living thing. I put back to where I took the torch and left a note on it saying how rude Adrian was last night and I look forward to getting an apology whether he liked it or not. I didn't care if he was a fucking Vessel, but he had acted irrationally, and nobody should be that way. Indignation was my strong suit after all.

I took one last look around Hades' Temple and descended upon the stairs that led back into the creek. There were many things I have missed seeing last night, like the watch tower which was at least sixty feet high built with honest-to-god grey stones, and a homey empty lot at the middle of the two temples.

I cocked my head at the empty lot, wondering what was there as to why people have abandoned it. Just looking at the empty land full of weeds made me a little sad, but quickly shook the feeling off.

What was so peculiar about this place, anyway? I mean, _Hades_? Who's next? Zeus? Hercules? Is the Parthenon going to pop out anywhere here soon? Am I going to be my personal Homer and write down the history of the Academy? What will it be entitled? _The Academy_?

I shook my head and didn't even consider laughing at my dry wit. Who knew that I could have such dry humor?

Maybe the previous events were taking their toll on me. Maybe.

I frowned a little more at the chunk of land and looked at the other temple. It was simple with Doric-styled columns the color of burnt sand and ivory. The temple was on the far left side of the whole land, just near the greater side of where the creek's water came from. It was a lake, a huge one at that, and it was a color of bright unfiltered blue with only a hint of green. Even at early dawn, it just looked as good as the ocean of Greece and Croatia on a perfect sunny day.

Anyway, back to the temple. It was simple, if you call pinnacle to paradise simple. Unlike Adrian's temple (which was dark and had a Gothic feel to them), this temple was built like a classical—certainly ancient—beauty. Although the columns weren't the flashy Corinthian styles (I knew these 'cause I have a weird fetish to things that involve beauty and art—especially weaponry art), the temple was just as regal as the one on its opposite side.

I felt like singing a tune right now, I thought and did a neat one-eighty, marching off to where I had gone.

It wasn't until I was nearly up to the bridge that I started to hear things.

The things I was hearing were audible, yet inaudible. They were loud whispers and soft shouts and probably all the oxymoron I could think of that is about sounds. It was confusing, and I couldn't understand a single word the voices—noises—were telling me. But some part of me, a single, miniscule part of me, knew what it was telling me. Or at least what was happening.

I gasped as my temples stung from the pain something caused me. My eyes went blurry for a second, but I held on to the last thin thread of awareness I had. My scar at my back made a telltale tingling. I shoved as hard as I could, not wanting to ruin a perfect dawn by manifesting thunder that could probably destroy anything that was on its way. And that would be the Camouflage.

By now, I was clutching my head between my hands, covering my ears, hoping to drown out the noise, but the noises were inside my head. It did no good. I wrenched open my eyes, and the thing I saw confused me.

How could a pair of combat boots be in front of me? And why at dawn? Early dawn?

I didn't bother to look up at who owned the boots because if this was any person with good in their mind, they would have helped me, not stand there and look at me like I was a retarded fool who went swimming on dry land.

I rolled to my side and caught my sheath (not the holster anymore) that held one of my daggers. Clumsily, I fumbled for my dagger through the collision of noise and pain. Finally, I caught my dagger. I tossed it up into the air, hoping to catch it by the hilt, but I was totally in no shape to do any of those stunts because when I caught my dagger, my palm stung like hell.

I had caught the dagger on the wrong side.

Crap, shit, fuck, ow, was all I could think of. I know, I know, you think that I should be used to all these stuff being stabbed involuntarily because I was using them blah blah blah, but you're quite mistaken. You see, I was in a state of panic—well, not panic, but pretty much close to panic because the noises were making me a little insane in their own way—and had no moment to think about whether I'll hurt myself or not. In short, I panicked. Maybe. Okay, I _did_ panic. One of my worst enemies was loud noises, and thunders were included. Ironic, is it?

"Shoooot…" I had cried out, and then miraculously, the noises stopped. Although the noises had stopped, I could still feel that I was light-headed and more than a little dizzy from my little field trip to the ground. I bit my lip, I wasn't a whiner, and I still am not. I looked at my hands, and closed my eyes, struggling to keep the bile down my throat. I wasn't a big fan of blood, and I still am _not_. I knew that we should cherish blood because it's the thing that gives us life by circulating around us, but I like to think the only thing keeping me alive was my loyalty and my sanity. Without sanity, I would be worse than dead. And without loyalty, I would be insane.

I rolled again, and slowly stood up with shaky knees. From the combat boots, to the black pants, to the white shirt, I raked my gaze at it as if I were to pounce and knock the living daylights out of the bastard—which was probably the only thing on my mind right now.

Atop of the white shirt were a long, pale neck and a face with the bluest of all electric blue eyes I have ever seen, and red hair.

Ashford, I remembered. Mason Ashford, the nutcase who put my bags up that fucking flagpole.

I considered spitting on his boots, but that would only make him amused. Concluding my revenge, I smiled, and reached my hands to his white unruffled shirt.

He didn't have time to react because he was just as shocked as, well, me. The stark bright red of the shirt drove me over to the edge, and then I spilled my guts. Damn, how nasty the sounds I make when I puke. Goodbye went my dinner last night. I had a second feeling a sheer sense of satisfaction that I had thrown up on Mason but was quickly followed by a huge feeling of embarrassment. Without further ado, I repressed the feeling of being embarrassed relentlessly, hoping no trace of it would invade the outcome of what I had just (not deliberately) done.

When I was done throwing up, I wiped my lips, and spat the remaining tastes of vomit out of my mouth. I looked up at Mason's face with a smug smile.

"Sorry," I told him. "I just ate a canary. I was a bit full, so I did the Technicolor yawn."

His face was stark white; I had the satisfaction to note. His eyes had lost some of its brightness, leaving a shocked, empty look in them.

"Mason Ashford, right?"

That seemed to kick him out of his stupor. Despite the colorful combination that he had on his recently white shirt, he still had the balls to look paternally domineering. Ew. "_Major_ Mason Ashford."

I bit back the _"you wish"_ I was about to say. Instead, I said, "Ashford seems better."

His eyes lit back to life. I almost had a hard time not squinting at them. "_Major_ Ashford. Nobody—"

"Actually, Ashford, I don't care." I cut him off, truly genuine about my words.

The look on his face was an Aldea Moment.

I could still taste the bitter taste of vomit in my mouth. I spat again. I pointed at his shirt. "You should go change—that reeks."

Mason didn't even look down. I guess he had strong determination. I chuckled. And then stopped. I remembered what Lissa had said about the Ashford twins. Morgana and Mason, they were known to be the most destructive Academists if combined. Morgana, who was telekinetic in all things she created, was a big bitch and made no effort to hide it. Mason on the other hand was clever, sometimes deceitful, and "sweet-talking." Sweet-talking, as Lissa had said, might be another description for persuasive—per se, mind-control. Yeah, that was why Mason had Morgana avoid an argument from me yesterday. Mason simply had applied his magic to his sister, "sweet-talking" her into doing what he desired.

Well, then, if he decides to pull that prank on me, it will be his last one, I swear.

"What are you doing here, anyway?"

He pointed at the side where the watch tower was. "I guard there at four to eight a.m."

I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicious. "Then why aren't you up there, guarding like you're supposed to be doing?"

Mason looked a little uneasy. He should, my squint could be a little dangerous at times. Or maybe it was just my puke that reeked. "I _am_ doing my job. I came down to escort you to the Headmistress for trespassing."

I was outraged. "Trespassing? What the fuck did I trespass? Why the fuck do you have to bring me to the fucking Headmistress? I didn't do anything wrong!" I barely hit my limit when Mason gave me a patient, chiding look like he was looking at a child and not an eighteen-year-old girl. Again, that made me enraged, but I held it back, knowing all too well what strong emotions did to me.

"Can't you read?" he pointed at a sign on the bridge, both facing the sides of the bridge.

"Well, I'm sorry if I can't read what I'm seeing right now. I barely even know what alphabets they are!"

That erased the smug look on Mason's face. Mason's jaw dropped, and he gave me a droll stare. He was about to say something when I held up my hand to silence him.

"Please, don't bother." I said and put on a patient look. "I'm not a genius like all of you Academists,"— almost, I snorted—"and I certainly am _not_ trespassing. Adrian told me to bring his stupid torch back to his stupid temple before the stupid sun comes up, and I did what he just asked." Demanded was more like it, but I didn't tell Mason.

He looked confused. "Adrian?"

I gave him a strange look. "The Vessel who wears the stupid black cloak, duh."

Again, he gave me that look that made me think he was some kind of hybrid human fish. "You mean the Vessel of Hades? You talked to him? You came here and you didn't get in trouble?"

I gave him my "duh" look.

Mason looked excited as hell, which looked weird because there were still remains of my dinner on his shirt. "Oh man, oh man. Nobody except the Headmistress knew their names, but now! Adrian, the Vessel of Hades! Who knew his name was such a wimp!"

Realizing my fault, I grabbed the back of his neck (not at his shirt because there was puke) and pulled him toward me. "Listen, buddy, if you ever tell anyone his name, I swear I'll kick your skinny little white ass." I said in a harsh tone.

From Mason's look, he wasn't in the least fazed by my threat. Instead, he looked into my eyes, and the noises started again. More violent this time. Most were screams, cries, and one voice stood out. "Let go of me."

Oh, boy, he's using mind control on me. Okay, buddy, let's see what you've got. The scar at my neck and back burned but I didn't use the powers they offered me. Instead, I did the thing I never thought I will.

I slapped Mason with a bloody hand. I cringed. Nasty. It left a bloody imprint of my hand on his cheek.

Mason doubled over, his eyes clearly showing that he hadn't expected the blow on his face.

I decked him, kicking the most sensitive part on his midsection. Hard. He wheezed and landed on the bridge hard on his butt, clutching at where I had decked him.

"I warned you but you didn't listen." I told him, surprised by my own voice. It sounded so nonchalant. "Don't let me kick your butt out of here. Go change your clothes; I'll take over for a while."

Mason choked. "Yeah, I'll do that after you kill me_._"

I sneered at him, but I didn't feel good about bullying. But then again, he started it. "Don't tempt me, punk."

"Perhaps the girl is right, Ashford. You should go back to your cabin and change." A voice sounded from behind me.

I stopped dead-still. The voice was downright scary. The voice, its accent a mixture of Russia and America and a little something else, was definitely male and deep. Despite the deepness of the voice, it still held a lyrical tune to them, but not in an obvious way that made him sound bad. Authority was also plain on his tone.

For once, I stayed quiet, and let what happened happen.

Mason scrambled to his feet and bobbed a bow. "But my Lord, I am not supposed to leave until my shift is over." He explained, shooting me a look.

The reaction the tall, tall man gave was unexpected. "Do you think we are incapable of protecting the temple, let alone ourselves? You only insult us by guarding the temples when we are here." The man's sculpted features were stoic, but I could see that there was not even one funny bone in his body.

Mason's look would have been funny if the situation wasn't so ludicrous. "N-no, my Lord, I d-didn't mean t-to off-fend you, and—"

The man sent Mason backing away and running with one look.

I rocked back on my heels and whistled the tune of "Puff the Magic Dragon" and looked at the man probably in his mid-twenties wearing a long brown coat. A duster, I thought it was called. I caught his eyes, which were shades darker than his coat. His brown hair, like mine, was tied back in a short ponytail. A face that was pure male influence turned toward where I was, his eyes assessing me dispassionately.

I rocked back on my heels again and quit whistling.

"Hi." I said.

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**Joyeux Noel.**

**Hugs and kisses from moi.**

**K8**


	8. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! HAPPY NEW YEAR to all of you celebrating! Gosh, how fast the year goes by, right? To ****SomethingOrAnotherOrCheese (Shannon!), thank you so much for your long review. Reviews like that make my writing worth-while. I'm giving a shout-out to my few reviewers: Aly, talkygirl, Midnight Equinox, and Nicia, you guys are all who reviewed the last chapter, and I appreciate them. Thanks so much! You guys are the only ones who doesn't make me feel like a I have inferiority complex.  
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**The usual disclaimer is applied: Richelle Mead owns her characters, and I owe mine and the plot.**

**Continue enjoying the Holiday, because it's almost time for school again.**

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**Chapter Seven**

**He didn't answer my greeting but tilted his head toward my bloody hand.**

"You are hurt." It wasn't a question but a statement.

Now that he mentioned it, my palm started to sting from the cut. I looked at my bloody palm in contempt, and wiped the blood off my palm on my jeans. But I didn't get to do them. My hands were caught by big calloused hands. My hand tingled and the air sizzled around me. As if he felt it too, he let go immediately and took a step back.

I sent the man an accusing look. "What did you do?"

He looked genuinely surprised. "I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did." It was just a second later that I realized that I was acting like a defiant child. I grunted and clamped my mouth shut.

The man was tall, at most six-seven, and was built like a warrior. His skin was an impressive color of gold mixed with light tan that made him look a little more exotic than he already was. The man had shoulder-length brown hair that was tied back into a low ponytail, and his face would have made me halt and stare. His face was exquisite with an almost blinding virile beauty to them, unlike Adrian's unkempt rakish visage that shouted playboy. His eyes were a color of rich mahogany brown that seemed to see through my soul.

Of course, being a man of what he was, the least he could do was see through one's soul.

"Hey, you're the other Vessel,"

The man shifted his weight as if he was uncomfortable discussing his Vessel-ness. Instead of answering me, he pointed at my hand. "We should cure your hand before they get infected."

Again with the non-asnwers. "Do you always try to side-track people when they ask you a question?"

Again, the man shifted. "It is not in my job description to answer any questions." If I didn't know better, I swear he was joking.

I almost laughed. "But you just answered my question."

"I was expecting you'd say that." He said, putting on a blank mask before he held out his hand for me to take. The less macabre one, of course. "Now, come. We must treat your hand."

I shrugged and didn't bother taking his hand. I was a little slow in admitting that I was afraid if that electric-thingy between us would happen again.

He led me to the temple with Doric columns. It was quite a short-ish long walk, but we got there without me making such fuzz. But when we were near the temple, he didn't lead me up, but we took a small detour around the other side of the temple where there were wonders that I never thought were there until now.

Beside the temple's grandeur was a place that looked like a mini paradise. If I didn't know better, I would have called it a garden, but I knew better. It was indescribable in its beauty. Put down a strip of pure healthy green lawn grass there and flagstone paths, and there, you describe barely half of what was there. I was never good in describing things that held much beauty or otherwise, and this made a mockery what I never had. It made me the worst interpreter of things.

After all, the only thing I was good at was pissing off everyone around me, and police work.

I had a sharp eye so when I saw a big ol' clay jar with a grip on them over a sink, I knew that this guy (I almost forgot that he was there) would bring me there to wash my hand. Proving my guess right, he led me to the sink and told me to wash my hand while he went to get something. I washed my hands and gargled while I was at it.

The only shade that provided the airy space was the trees. Most were palm trees, and some were very attractive cherry blossom trees (they were near the lake), Japanese maple trees with various colors of leaves, and one tree I thought they called bonsai was there, dominating all other trees. It was the largest bonsai I have seen so far and I only thought they grew at certain temperatures or dates—but who cares anyway.

I watched the trees and forgot the sting of my palm. But now that I mentioned the cut… Curiously, I looked at my cut, and immediately regretted doing it. It was like the cut was glaring at me. It was a color of pale pink with the skins… I shuddered and, again, swallowed what I thought was vomit.

It was barely bleeding now, but I couldn't stand the sight of even little blood. Now I knew why Kristin feared blood. Blood was so disgusting whenever you see it when you don't want to see it.

When the Vessel came back, he was bringing mortar and pestle and some green plant with him.

"What the heck is that?" I pointed at the leaves/plant whatever.

He started pulling off the small leaves that were shaped like small clovers, and put them on the mortar. He crushed the small leaves with the pestle until they turned like green muck. I shuddered again. Geez, how sensitive was I these days. I was never bothered at the sight of blood before now, let alone something like ground leaves.

"It's called _malunggay_ in other countries, but an English term for it is said to be moringa." He said quietly and signaled for my hand.

Reluctantly, I gave him my injured hand cursed as he touched—not too gently—my cut.

"I'm sorry." he apologized and his hold turned gentle. It was an awkward hold, as if he wasn't used to giving a soft touch.

I grunted and cursed again as he put a handful of the green muck on my cut. It stung a little for a while, but then it became numb in no time. My hand became so numb that it reached to the point where I couldn't feel nor move my hand anymore.

He wrapped thin white gauze on them to keep the green muck on my hand.

"Man, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were a damn good faith healer. This green muck actually works."

Apparently, he missed my sarcasm. "The _malunggay_ works wonders."

Geez, how uptight could one man be?

"I meant that it's making it worse. " I think. "I can't feel my hand." I raised my hand and waved it to him.

"It has that effect on people." He said and ambled toward the temple's stairs, leaving me alone. I followed him, not liking that he was being more of an asshole Adrian had been last night. Gosh, were Vessels really snobs?

"Hey, wait almighty rudeness!" I called to him. I ran up the steps and came into an absolute halt when something metallic clanged and almost decapitated me if I hadn't stopped immediately.

The Vessel looked back at what made the noise. He saw me and the metal thingy in front of me, and then waved his hand. The thing that almost decapitated me vanished. Yes, it vanished.

Deciding it was best for my sanity to go with the flow, I started toward him with more caution than before. Not that I had been cautious before; I had been reckless. I looked back at the direction where the decapitating-thing had fallen and saw an honest-to-god knight armor holding a more honest-to-god trident that could be very capable of decapitating anyone's head with their very sharp tips.

I looked back at the guy's eyes and disconnected the contact when I felt tingly when I did. Weird feeling.

"So is this the new welcome trend?" I asked sarcastically. "Decapitating your guests?"

"I'm sorry, but it is the way of our security here."

I nodded. Right, security. When Adrian had a lich; this other guy had moving knight armors. I thought twice about nodding, and then, shook my head, not really understanding. But then again, I can practically shoot lightning out of my eyes. Not that I tried, but maybe I could.

The guy walked away, leaving me alone again.

"Hey," I called. "I still don't know your name yet." I stopped beside him, and then thought better of it. I stopped in front of a picture frame made out of simple wood. The picture was taken from the year 2010, and it showed a colored but faded picture of the Russian Naval Infantry. Most men had serious faces on, but there were some who had enough heart to smile. I felt a little tug as I found one guy's blank face. He looked familiar, but I couldn't put a name on him.

"We are not supposed to tell you our names."

"What's up with the plurals?"

I swear the man let out an exasperated sigh. "Us, Vessels, are not supposed—"

"Oh, don't give me that crap. Adrian told me his name last night and said that he was Russian and proud to be one."

Now, it was an outright sigh of irritation. I didn't know if it was directed toward me or him. He mumbled something in a language I didn't know, and picked up a worn scroll from a flashy marble table, and sat on the table.

"Adrian dallies too much for his own good."

"Hey, are you calling me a waste of time?" I asked sharply not a second later when he finished saying his sentence. Dally was never in my vocabulary, but when used on me, I tend to bark and bite.

The guy looked up at me with strange eyes. He had an expression that I couldn't read. "My name is Dimitri."

What was up with this guy and his evasive non-answers? "I asked if you had called me a waste of time, not your name."

Again with the weird expression. "No, you are absolutely not a waste of time." He said and stood up, walking away and mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "But I am" or something along those lines.

I followed him like an annoying kid and decided it was best to sate my insatiable curiosity. "So, if Adrian's temple is called Hades' Temple—"

"The Temple of Hades." Dimitri corrected me.

"Whatever." I waved it off. "What's yours?"

"It is not our temple, but it is the gods'."

I bit back a tired sigh. "I figured since they are named by them. Who's your god?"

"Little girl—"

I barked a harsh laugh. "I'm far from a little girl, buddy. If you only knew what I did for a living when I wasn't here, I'd probably get more than half the respect I have now." I grumbled.

"Okay, _big girl_," I didn't miss the emphasis on the words. His expression was a little intrigued, but it disappeared as soon as it appeared.

I realized something and nearly growled at him. "You're trying to side-track me again, aren't you? Guess what, Dimitri, it's a miserable failure." I poked his bicep and couldn't help notice how rock-hard it was. He must work out a lot. From his looks, it was plain to see that he was a warrior in heart, body and probably soul. Now, his body was making me side-tracked. I shook my head. "Who's your god?"

"I don't have a god." He said simply. "It doesn't mean that I wield the power of this particular god, he has to be _my_ god. I have more self-respect than that."

I rubbed my temples in irritation. What was up with Dimitri and questions? I swear, if questions were people, I'd think they were mortal enemies.

"Whose powers do you carry?" I asked both wanting to fall into deep sleep, and bang his head with a jackhammer.

"Poseidon,"

"Then why did you have to beat around the bush and not save me the time of more interrogation?" I asked a little angrily. Man, it was too soon to be mad at a guy—for one, it was still early in the morning. I erased the thought that the recent events of the Academy taking their toll on me—it was the Academy itself taking its toll on me, not the events.

Dimitri looked at me with a look that was half-amused and half-something else. "Now you're telling me that I'm a waste of time."

I didn't. I didn't say that he was a waste of time. He was just playing with me, I realized. "Double the votes there. You said so yourself that you are."

He looked like he was about to say something, but thought better of it and shut his mouth. Instead of doing something to treat his manly ego by arguing with me, he closed his eyes as if controlling his patience—or something close to that. But from his expression, I doubted that.

A loud bell rang.

"You should go. Trainings start within an hour and a half." He said and walked away without opening his eyes. The Vessel was weird. Weird in a good way, of course. I was weird myself, and I didn't want to lower myself by calling a weirder guy than me weird—it would make me weirder than him. If you dig it, you're cool.

"Will I see you at training?" I don't know why, but I was eager to see Dimitri again. It was quite romantic in a morbid sort of way. Again, I shuddered.

"I don't train." he said as if it answered it all. If he had a hat, I was sure he would have tipped it. And then marching off, he disappeared like Adrian last night.

I felt something like jealousy crawl up to me, but I squashed it mercilessly, knowing far too well what jealousy would do to me. Instead of pulling off something outrageous, I walked away, muttering "show-off" for the umpteenth time since I arrived here to the Academy.

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**So, how was the chapter? The following chapters are to be posted next week if I—and the readers, of course—are satisfied. Of course, I can only be sated with purty reviews, so…CLICK THE BLUE LINK DOWN THERE AND WRITE SOMETHING! JUST WRITE ANYTHING. EVEN SOME HATE MESSAGES, OR WHATNOT—IT'S BETTER THAN NOTHING. =)**

**xOxO,**

**K8**

**P.S. I updated one chapter for my on-hold story, Beautiful Stranger. Enjoy it, too.**

**P.P.S. HAPPY NEW YEAR AGAIN!**


	9. Chapter 8

**Since I'm feeling happy, I like to post this chapter early. To all my readers—don't doubt my love for all of you. I'll love you all more when you give me reviews to read! I just love reading them, makes me float.**

**This is a rather short chapter, but ENJOY!**

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**Chapter Eight**

"**Merciful gods and goddesses, this cannot be!"**

At least someone was happy to see me.

Kristin was there in her pink bathrobe and a towel on her hair, looking at me with a look of concern on her face.

"Rosie-pie, you know that I have already forgiven you, right? You don't have to torture yourself like this. Look, you look very pale and thin. Have you been eating? You're not, are you? Kendall! You shouldn't have been too hard on Rosie. Now, look, she doesn't even want to eat anymore."

I gave Kristin a faint smile, more amused than annoyed at her comments and assumptions. "I'm fine, Kristin. You don't have to worry about me." I patted her arm. As I passed by her, she sniffed and scrunched her nose in revulsion.

"Do I smell something bad? Like…_blood_?" she asked, the last word choking her.

I froze and suddenly remembered that I had a cut palm. I frowned, confused as to why she was smelling things like blood, when I had nothing on me. Now, anyway. She looked at me suspiciously. I held up my gauzed hand and told her, "It's the _malunggay_." The unfamiliar word tumbled out of my mouth awkwardly. "It smells like iron and rust, hence, like blood." Smooth liar, thy name is Rose Hathaway.

She looked at my palm and wrinkled her beautiful face into imperfect perfection. Whoa, who knew I made such good oxymoron? Not. Gosh, I was so full of them today. "What are you doing with that?" And then her eyes widened in horror. "You aren't cut anywhere there, are you?" she asked, horror plain in her voice.

I sighed, and I felt my shoulders sag. "No, I don't." I still denied, even though I knew was defeated.

My guess proved me wrong, which really relieved me to no end. She turned into the happy-go-lucky Kristin again. "Oh. I thought you were cut. Of course, if you were cut, _blood_—"—she choked again on the word—"would be everywhere." She smiled and walked off to her closet.

I sighed again (I seemed to be doing that a lot now), and changed my clothes. I wore my perpetual ensemble of jeans and shirt—I never liked wearing other things other than comfortable jeans and a snug shirt, wearing anything else always made me feel quite, quite complex. I wasn't complex in any way, and I'd like to keep it that way.

I hurried up with changing my clothes because I felt kind of edgy. Maybe it was Lissa's hair blower that made me do that (I hate loud noises, honestly). Maybe it was because my stomach was growling so loud (again with the loud noise—dam you, stomach!), or maybe I was just too eager to see Dimitri again.

I snorted. No, that was not it, I thought. It was something unpleasant, judging by the way the edginess kept gnawing at my brain like the burns did to my skin. Finally, I realized what made me so antsy. I was hungry—hungry for the vengeance I promised myself I would have. The guy who gave me that fucking "death touch" would pay. Edison would pay, and he's not paying any money.

Before I knew it, electricity crackled and Lissa's hair blower and all of the electric gadgets they were using were turned off as if there was a blackout. Lissa took one look at me and snickered.

"Rose, can you—" Lissa trailed off, pointing at the gadgets in general.

"Sorry," I apologized, and released a little energy to turn the beastly machines on. It didn't drain me of much power, unlike yesterday.

"And before you go out," Lissa said when I sauntered to the door. "You better brush your hair."

**My schedule, as promised, was posted at the bulletin board. **Like everybody in the Academy, I took the famed class they called, well, Homeroom with the capital H. It was rumored to be the most exceptional of classes and I didn't know why. I figured it was just a class where they do nothing but talk to one another—now _that_ would be great. Not.

The Academy was neither college nor high school, but somewhere in between. We didn't take courses, but we got to pick our class hours. My schedule would have gone like this when I had the right to make it and actually do it:

**Morning Class**

**8:00-9:00 - Go find asshole Edison**

**9:00-10:00 - Plot revenge**

**10:00-11:00 - Wreak havoc in the whole campus**

**-LUNCH BREAK-**

**Afternoon Class**

**1:00-2:00 - Bully Edison and probably Mason, too (Is it just coincidence, or are their names both ending with –son? In that case, they're both sons of bitches. Get it? **_**Son**_**s of female dogs? Funny? Haha? Queue for eye-roll for the corny joke.)**

**2:00-3:00 - Kill Edison**

**3:00-3:45 - Burry Edison, and do it pronto—don't want to get caught**

_That_ was what I wanted, but nobody ever got to choose what they wanted to do here in the Academy. They only got to choose the schedules of the classes, and not the classes themselves.

Instead of centering on killing Edison schedule, it was centered on nothing in particular. The classes were named ominously like some bad book title.

My first class was called "If Looks Could Kill" in the third building at the west side near the mini-canyons were (earth deities liked to spend their time). There wasn't any other information about the class, so I headed up to class without any major intrusions along the way. It made me a little suspicious—in the Academy, I always end up practically hanging from a make-shift noose, and falling on deep manholes where murderous water creatures inhabited. This easy situation had me inkling that the class I was going to would be the norm. Academically speaking, that is.

When I got to the building, I happened to pass by the perpetually pissed-off redhead.

"Well, lookie who we have here. The Hathaway loser." Her blue eyes were just as striking as Mason's. "I'm sure you apologized to my dear twin 'bout his crisp white shirt. I wondered how he got that gunk to his shirt. Oh, wait—you did it!" Her companions laughed at her lame joke.

Instead of barking out a witty remark, I just winked at her and tootled her off. I felt breezy, and kind of blasé just brushing Morgana off like that. In fact, I felt incredible that I didn't lose my temper with Morgana. This day wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be.

My good mood ended as soon as I entered my classroom.

"Well, hello there. You're late, but I assume you were lost, so I'll let the insult pass without the injury. Please take a seat—"

Before Edison finished talking, something flared inside me that was truly and remarkably unadulterated with dark thoughts and something close to hatred.

"You," I hissed, and the lunged at him.

Edison's eyes widened a fraction in recognition before he raised his hand, preparing for battle. Oh, let's wait and see if he could put me to damn sleep when I was ready for it.

As quickly as I had responded to my murderous nature, I felt the drowsiness seep into me. If I wasn't so prepared and eager to tear some throat, I was sure I would have fallen dead-asleep now. Edison wasn't even touching me, and I already felt so damn sleepy. Edison, the stupid guy he was, just stared at me with a look so intense, it nearly burned me right there on the spot. Instead, I felt my limbs weakening as if something was persuading my body to shut down and just…_sleep_.

I couldn't, I told myself. I couldn't let him do this to me. Not with all the people in front of us, watching us with curious eyes.

I gritted my teeth as I battled off the drowsiness, and prayed to my God to give me the strength I needed to reclaim my ego. I know, it's too bad a reason, but it was the truth.

My knees buckled and my sight started to fade into blackness. I held my ground and kept my eyes open, not even daring to blink, because I know what would happen if I'd blink.

"Don't blink." I told myself. "Fight it off."

But it was impossible not to blink. Before I collapsed unconscious, I could clearly see Edison's hazel eyes twinkling with unsaid humor.

Fuck him. Fuck that guy.

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**K8  
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	10. Chapter 9

**SHOUT-OUT FOR MY LOYAL REVIEWERS: talkygirl, Elena Yanofsky (Ellie, you seriously made my week), Violet (don't worry, I still read your effingly awesome reviews), Nicia, leprechaun (why, you sound so gloomy, luv), Midnight Equinox, Italian Ice, Aly, and last but not the least, Kristen! Love you guys with all my writing heart! Readers, I love you too. Why I'm so sentimental right now, I don't know the answer.**

**I already have the eight installment of the House of Night series, but I haven't been able to read it yet. Neferet's such a bitch. Anyway, this chapter will reveal new characters—the original VA ones except for one exception. The next chapter, too, will be introducing many new characters. Everything gets exciting here and the next.**

**Enjoy and give me some reviews. Make me happy again. =)**

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**Chapter Nine**

"—**and then the next thing we knew, the lights were off and bursting, **and Eddie and that Hathaway girl were down and dirty. I still can't believe she was able to resist it that long. It's a wonder why she's staying at those cabins."

"Yes, yes. Thank you for your kind offer to share your thoughts, Mr.—?"

"Quinol,"

"Ah, yes, the famous Mr. Quinol and his angelic voice. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone with these two." The tall, plus-sized woman behind the desk said to the pimply kid named Quinol. Weird name, that.

Quinol bowed. "Of course, Headmistress Kirova, anything you wish, I will grant it." With one last look at both of us (me and Edison), he casually strolled off and made his way back to wherever he came from.

The Headmistress heaved a sigh and looked at me with her squinty dark eyes. "I never thought this would ever happen in your first day, Miss Hathaway. You are quite an intriguing subject." She said and turned to Edison. "And you, Edison, I thought you knew better than to pull that obnoxious trick of yours to unknowns."

Edison gave an innocent shrug and gave me an apologetic look. "I was just doing my job, Headmistress." He said to the large woman and it took me all of my willpower not to lunge and beat the living shit out of him. It had been hard enough to be carried here half-conscious (murmuring the dirtiest and rudest things in my native language) by guys my age. I had been aware enough to throw bits of everything that I got hold of and throw it at the motherfucking Edison. He even had the grace to look sheepish.

The Headmistress shoved her glasses to the bridge of her nose. "Yes, yes, I know. But caution, Mr. Castile. You of all people should know that."

They were talking like I wasn't there. That annoyed me to no end. I wanted to throw things again.

"Yes, I had caution, but I didn't know—"

"You know what? I'll think I'll just go so the two of you can talk." I started to rise from my seat, but I was quickly back on it. I was sitting before I knew it. I looked accusingly at the Headmistress, but said nothing. One drawback about having telekinesis was that if you got those powers, you tend to abuse them. Now, the Headmistress was using that against me. Fuck, I was held in this god-forsaken office against my will. HELP!

"Castile, I want you to formally apologize to Miss Hathaway now." Headmistress Kirova said.

Edison gave a nod, saying "Okay, okay, I will." In a submissive manner.

"_And_… you have to wash the dishes until the end of the week."

Edison looked like he was about to zap the Headmistress to sleep, and never let her wake. Instead of doing something completely fortifying for himself, he just nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Kirova's eyes shot up to his and I swore I saw a vein pop on her forehead. "Don't you _'ma'am-ma'am'_ me, young man." Things started shaking, and I had the satisfaction to note Edison's weakness. He didn't want things moving without his will. He looked scared shitless.

"No, ma—I mean, Headmistress Kirova. There will be no 'ma'am-ma'am' from now on, promise." Edison's voice was suspiciously an octave higher.

The things settled down, and the Kirova puffed her bosom and sat down, dismissing Edison and reminding him to go back to his class after he apologized to me.

I was shocked at how Kirova had let Edison go so easily. It was unfair; I was stuck here alone with her. Oh, no, I had never been able to get along well with women her age.

"Miss Hathaway, I assure you that you are in no particular danger from me." Kirova must have seen the look on my face because she gave me half a smile (a rather empty one at that). I shuddered at it.

"I suppose I should get on with it." the Headmistress said to herself. "Miss Hathaway, I should tell you that not all things that are done to you are the doings of the devil." Her tone was politely chastising. "It is actually a normal thing in the Academy. We do it to strengthen our students and their loyalty to each other." she said in a rather harsh tone. Her eyes glinted dangerously, but I didn't know why.

How can she say things about loyalty? They attack their damn students until they pee on their pants from either laughter or fear.

"We also had a report this dawn from Miss Ashford—" Damn Mason and his sister. Damn them both. "—that you had been loitering in the Temples without my express permission, but the Vessel of Hades had assured me that you have not done anything to harm the Temples."

Yeah, and I nearly got decapitated when I got there. Twice.

"Your situation with the Vessels far exceeds the other Academists so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and let you go for now." Kirova looked as if she didn't believe in her words, but just said it anyway. She had a look on her face that I couldn't quite understand.

"You are dismissed. Be on your next class, and don't shock anyone anymore."

I nodded, and sauntered off to the exit. "I won't." Bite me, was my silent response.

**0906T hours**

**09:06 AM, Montana Mountain, Mountain Daylight**

**Class: Cascada's Song**

**I never really liked fire.** Fire, with its heat, lives could be either saved or taken. I wasn't sure of the history of it, but I knew that it was one of the major fears of men. Or it can also be a fascination. For arsonists and pyromaniacs, that is.

Standing in a room filled with fire-wielding youngsters was a pretty drastic change for me. It was not a secret that I didn't like fire. To tell you the truth, fire was the first thing I hated next to horrible grating loud noises.

Looking curiously at the transparent, nearly invisible, dome that shielded the area that surrounded us, I decided that never did I fear getting too close to fire than this. It took all of my strength not to dash out of the dome and return to wherever place was safe. Of course, I had dignity and pride of the highest person, and it gave me enough resistance not to rush off out of the damned place.

"Hi, you must be the new Academist. I'm Natasha, but you can call me Tasha. You must be Rosemarie."

The friendly tone took me out of my dreading reverie. I turned and what came to sight to me gave me chills instead of manic heat. The eyes were colors of pale, ice blue. It reminded me of a Siberian Husky's eyes, which were only few shades lighter than the girl's. Her face, a color I would have envied, was the color of pure ivory it almost hurt my eyes to look at her. The paleness of her face was only intensified by her long, straight raven-black hair. Her cheeks, flushed from the heat of the room, were deep blushes of rose. Her face was sculpted in a delicate, almost fragile, way that would make men besotted with her instantly. She was a beauty that could rival Kristin. But not Lissa. No, no one could rival Lissa.

Instantly, I hated her. Hated her because she was beautiful. Hated her because she seemed so nice. Hated her because she looked so smart, unlike carefree Kristin. Hated her because I, in every way, was a far-cry of her delicate good looks. And mostly I hated her because of her hair. My hair was once like that, only prettier. My once Helen-of-Troy-like looks were now marred because I had lost them to the lightning that had struck me a year ago. The lightning had taken almost everything I had.

"Rose. Call me Rose." I said in a voice that had too much emotion in them. Immediately, I struggled to keep my emotions in check.

She cocked her head to one side, noticing my tone. I hoped she would just leave it—and me—alone. Luckily, she thought better and ignored it. Good move on her part. I wasn't about to go spilling around my emotions to people I barely knew. Especially to people I instantly feel uncomfortable connections to. Uncomfortable being an understatement.

"I guess you must be wondering what we are. I know you're still new." Her voice was pleasant. Polite. Her expression also said the same thing. She led me to one site where two Academists were playing a good game of "Blind Fold Dodge Fireball."

"We are fairies. Or at least part fairies."

I shuddered at the confession. There only wasn't Greek gods, werebeings, mini Venus flytraps, but there were also damn fairies who control fire. Believe it—fairies? I thought they had wings.

"Fairies are elemental beings, if you didn't know. Fairies are categorized by their elements, namely fire, earth, water, air, and ice." She paused, giving me a little time to take it in. "Earth and water fairies also have other names. Earth fairies are called dryads, and water fairies are called either naiads or Nereid—really depends on where they inhabit."

Taking in the info wasn't that hard. It wasn't quite hard because I, myself, was a weird person who had a "neurological side-effect" that made me capable of doing things beyond science could explain.

I nodded to let her continue.

"Ice fairies are the rarest of Fey kinds. We don't know why, but maybe it's because ice isn't a natural element of the planet, it is a form-phase of water. That's our strongest theory, but if it's 'second-hand' why is it so powerful?" she seemed fascinated more to the story than me.

She turned and gave me a look that imitated a good teacher's "understand?" look.

I nodded once before turning my attention to the fireballs that were exploding out of one girl's hands, and a male Academist, blind-folded, was dodging them in a way that told me he had been doing that a quite while now.

"Here, we have Christian deflecting the balls of fire."

I couldn't help but note at why she should have just said fireballs, and used the longer thing.

"We are doing this to enhance our sense of hearing. To say it simply, we do trainings here that involve _avoiding_ fire and not the other way around. We fight against you non-fairies—or rather mostly non-fairies— but we also have our loyalties in check." Her words were a shorter and friendlier version of Kirova's speech. She turned and smiled at me. "You might think we're crazy, fighting against each other, but still keeping the peace around but that's what's amazing about the Academy."

The quote "all's fair in love and war" came to my mind.

"Now, you're going to be doing the same thing as Christian."

My heart stopped dead on my chest.

No, not really, but it felt like it.

I hid the would-be unattractive gape that would have escaped from me if I hadn't checked my emotions so tightly. I looked at her and cocked up one brow. "How do I do that?"

She smiled, and my heart tightened at the sight of it. She really was nice…and very beautiful, but not as beautiful as my personal angel shaman, Lissa. Lissa's ethereal, luminous beauty was incomparable. I wondered how bad it would be to just…to not _hate_ Tasha. I wondered now why I hated her so instantly. I didn't have to wonder long because I knew full well that I was just jealous of her. The girl was beautiful, verily. Saying beautiful wouldn't even justify it, but it was the best word I could think of. Although perfect wasn't far off. I wasn't fond of using exaggerations, and I use hyperboles as rarely as I can. Tasha wasn't perfect and nobody was perfect—only God was perfect (I wasn't really big on that religion stuff but I knew enough not to use _perfect_ on describing anyone. Although I had been born as an Islam, I was converted and raised as a Christian when my father finally pulled apart from his clan).

"That's why you're here, aren't you? To learn. I'll teach you."

**Twenty minutes later,** I was dodging the fireballs like the first time I did it. I couldn't just do it. Hearing fireballs being thrown was just like trying to hear the buzz of a fly inside a stadium full of manic fans. Well, not really. Yeah, I could hear the whooshing of the fireballs, but it was the direction they were going at that confused and frustrated me to no end.

"Listen carefully, Rose." ordered a now-stern Tasha. "Believe in your capabilities to dodge the balls of fire,"—she still insisted in calling it the long way, and I wondered why she did that instead of saving herself a mouthful of words—"_Believe _that you can hear it. Do _not_ strain to hear it, Rose, you're causing yourself tension. Relax. Having your ability is only a matter of believing in yourself. If you don't believe that you really can hear the thing, you'll surely lose. I said don't strain!"

A faint sense of déjà vu ran through me, but I didn't care, nor had the strength to go skim through memory lane.

Frustrated and angry—either at Tasha, myself, or the whole fucking universe, I didn't know—I threw off the blindfold and slumped on the ground, suddenly too exhausted to even think or move.

I heard murmurs around me, but didn't care quite so much as I would normally be. I put my face in my hands and inhaled a lungful of air, and another one. Nobody ever told me that the trainings in the Academy were _this_ exhausting. Emotionally _and_ physically exhausting.

Somewhere along my dark mull of thoughts, I heard a soft sigh, and footsteps. A hand landed on my shoulder. I didn't shake it off.

"Hey, nobody ever said it's easy the first day." Tasha said softly. She helped me up. "Come, sit at the bleachers."

I didn't know there were bleachers, but soon there were. I sat at the bottom, and wiped the sweat off my face, and looked at the active group of fire fairies and fighters—Academists.

"So, this is the Academy life." I said a while later when I finally caught my breath.

A smile appeared on her face. "Yeah, it is. Don't worry, I was just like you the first time I came here. Newbie, got picked on, had my bag up the flagpole, too. Done worst things than you, even. I accidentally burned down a dryad's tree, and I ended up planting trees for all the earth fairies."

I laughed, and reveled at how easily she opened up to me. She was a great girl, I was sure. I suddenly felt foolish that I pulled off the "green-eyed monster" act on her. It wasn't that she was a subject not to be jealous at—she was—but when you get to know her, even a little, you'll just find yourself in a situation where you eventually feel foolish for hating her right on sight.

"What happened to the dryad?" I asked.

"He vowed to never let me near his vicinity and has been keeping it for three years now."

"How long have you been here?"

"Almost five years. Christian and I—Christian's my nephew, but I'm only five years older than him—were sent here by my mother, his grandmother. She was the only one responsible enough to survive in all those years. Since 2012, nothing has been the same, my mother had said. The storm had brought something unknown to our world, and they said it wasn't good. Although the storm brought us our Vessels…" she trailed off and looked guiltily around.

"I wasn't supposed to say that." she murmured and stood up, pacing about.

"Are you still tired? Can I get you anything? You don't really have to get this right today; no one ever does on their first day. Only the best—those are the Vessels or some special kinds of Academist—take a week or less to expertise it."

My eyebrows shot up. A week? Whew. I was far from the best so I would not dare assume that it'd take me less time to get me to "believe" that I can actually hear fireballs rushing to me, and dodge them at the same time. Believing that there were fire-throwing bastards was even hard enough.

But instead of giving into my inner monologue's demands of rest, I shook my head, and released a part of myself I have taken for granted ever since it came to me. I could hear the crackling of energy as I readied myself, and willed myself to hear the fireballs that would surely hit me in no time.

Tasha, receiving the assent, positioned herself and manifested a fireball between her hands, tossing it at me with apparent lack of speed. Great, she was taking it easy on me.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to only hear the sound of the fireball as it came nearer and nearer to me. For a fraction of a second, I doubted myself if I could really do this _thing_, but then I shoved that thought away and _felt_ myself hear the fireball. It was actually easy if you really concentrate much.

The fireball was heading to my lower left torso, and I shimmied away from its direction.

"Good!" Tasha called, excitement and what sounded like approval evident in her voice. "This time, faster, Rose!"

True to her words, two fireballs came at me at a speed faster than before. Quite sloppily, I dodged both of them, but I didn't miss the obvious heat at one when it nearly grazed my naked cheek. Heat, as well as the strong surge of adrenaline, ran through me that left me tingly at my scars and excited all over.

Another two rushed to me, and deflected (not neatly, I note) one fireball with my elbow, leaving my sleeve singed. I didn't quite care about my clothes, I had a bagful of them, and it won't be so hard to go shopping for new ones, right?

Meanwhile, Tasha was encouraging me that I was doing great, and I could do better.

When my adrenaline finally ran low, I suddenly felt…well, tired. My legs felt like rubber, and it seemed like just closing my eyes was even tiring. I really wonder why closing my eyes could be an exhausting action. Quite confusing, right?

Tasha blew another two, and I didn't have the strength I had before to even stand on my ground when they hit me like two burning torches.

I fell flat on my ass. I had enough dignity to stay sitting on the ground; I couldn't just _lie_ on the ground where people could see me, right? It was bad enough that I passed out in front of them yesterday when I used my powers, right? Right?

I panted, and wiped my face of the sweat. I felt my clothes clinging to me in a way I would have found satisfying (I like to keep myself in shape), but it only made me feel a little grossed out that I was sweating so damn much. It was either from the fire, the heat of the room, or just exertion of...well, I don't really know. It's not like _believing_ was a strenuous exercise, right?

A hand clamped down my soggy shoulder. Soggy and singed, apparently.

"That was an effing A plus for first-timers. A plus. Good job, keep it up." Tasha told me, her voice cool and professional, but there was no hiding a hint of pride in her tone.

I barely managed a smile when I slumped and lay on the ground for a good measure of minutes.

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**So, what do you think of Tasha? Of Edison? And, lastly, at Kirova? **

**Give me a review and tell me what you think.**

**xOxO,**

**K8 =)**

**P.S. More reviews, more Vesselness. Hint, hint… ;-)**


	11. Chapter 10

**I'm not going to lie and say that I wasn't disappointed at the amount of feedbacks I had from my story. So far, I only had eleven or twelve cheering me up every time I update. But hey, as our own Rose Hathaway quotes: "It's probably some kind of karmic way to balance out the universe. Otherwise, it wouldn't be fair to have one person so full of awesomeness."**

**LOL =) The usual disclaimer applies, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

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**Chapter Ten**

**1010T hours**

**10:10 AM, Montana Mountain, Mountain Daylight**

**Class: The Dread**

**The class name just all but took me on the brink of sanity.** And by sanity, I meant my natural common sense to laugh at such a ridiculous title.

Ridiculous title aside, I was looking forward for the class. I had a strange feeling that nothing could go wrong now that I had passed the "test" Tasha had given me. Believing to that I had the capabilities to do what it takes was one thing I was a little good at, since I had an ego that could fill a crater on the moon, and a pride that could be rivaled to my brother's. All in all, a good dose of ego isn't that bad when you're in the Academy. In fact, it was a necessity. But then, pride was one of the seven deadly sins…but should I repent?

I didn't know the answer.

I ran up to the room, which was way up the building mostly made out of glass. It was creepy every time I looked out. I was three stories up and there was no denying the truth that I was afraid of heights. I cringed and looked away, focusing on looking what was in front of me. When I was at the hallway to my designated room, the first thing I saw had my hackles rising.

A lich stood at a black double door, looking everything like a soldier on watch. Except that the soldier was more or less a zombie. Its skin was all brown, grey, and dirty and crinkled up. Its eye sockets black empty holes on his ugly soulless face. His dead mouth regarded me in a silent snarl.

Even though liches were similarly ugly, this lich, I knew. He had threatened to chop my head off, after all.

"Gordon, good day." I said, mustering up a small smile even though I wanted so badly to grimace at the scent he was giving out. Liches, I confess from experience, smelled like decaying bodies, as they should smell.

The lich remained silent, but it was a mocking kind of silence, the kind that just made you want to pull your hair out of their follicles from the annoyance of it.

"Where's your master? Aren't you supposed to be tied up today back at his temple?" I asked, mocking too. If he was just going to stand there until I go mad, I might as well get a little fun out of it.

Its mouth moved, and before I knew it, black smoke—the kind of smoke that moves slowly and seductively in the air with a deadly purpose—moved toward me, its scent growing more putrid by the second. And it seemed like the hallway was too small. The air too thin like the walls were pressing in on me. The smoke came nearer, its movements as graceful and slow as a snake's slither.

And then, I remembered Father's most inspirational message he had given to me: "If you have the courage, determination and the absolute belief in your capabilities to take on the world, everything is possible."

That had been one of the longest speeches I have heard Father say to me, and the most inspirational. I took strength in that, and so did my brother, Yilmaz. But Yilmaz was far too arrogant and dominating to draw in limits when it comes to "making things possible." He always thought Father's words were God's words—always took Father's "quotes" too personally. I would rather he took Father's orders on a mission seriously so we wouldn't screw up royally. Instead, he took it the other way around, ending things up with a big messy bang that left me to clean it all up.

But anyway…back to the present…

The black smoked snaked around my body, but I didn't pay attention to it. I put my whole undivided attention to the lich in front of me and I smiled. The grin, promising many unsaid threats to the recipient, grew wide when the lich's surprise showed on its face. If he was going to "kill" me in his own undead way, I might as well die fighting—or _not_ die, but actually win. That idea would be so great if I only knew how to kill an already dead thing.

Just the way the black smoke stopped around my body and began retreating was a dead giveaway of his awareness of my reaction.

Before I could stop the lich myself from doing that smoke thingy, it had already withdrawn the smoke back, while saying in its raspy voice, "I am not supposed to hurt you. My Lord has ordered me not to. You were the lady who busted my neck again, but those actions can be forgiven, so long as you shall stay true to your word not to destroy the peace my Lord, and the Temple has found."

I was a little stupefied at Gordon's words, but I swallowed back a question that teetered on the edge of being asked. I gave him my smug smile instead. "Your…_Lord_ certainly told you not to kill me." I said a little amiably, but there was still an edge to my tone.

Gordon looked like he was not interested in answering me, but he did. "Yes, my Lord has told me not to harm you pitiful mortals."

I snorted at the implication. "Mortals? And…_pitiful_? I'm sorry, but I may be a lot of things, but I am _not_ _pitiful_." I said the word like it was AIDS.

Gordon's wrinkled face stayed blank, guarded. "Do you deny that you are not a mortal also?" Now that Gordon wasn't saying any threats, I found a very faint, almost unidentifiable, hint of an accent he had. It was Southern, but I couldn't put a finger from what particular place.

I almost laughed at that. "Me? Mortal? Hell, yeah! What are you saying? You're immortal?"

"I am neither mortal nor immortal, lady. I am undead, which puts me in between life and death. I cannot die of any disease or any physical lacerations—I am ageless. But I can die if my Lord or the Great Lord Hades chooses so."

Interest bloomed inside me. I wanted to know more about liches and other things about Vessels, but I had a class to go in to.

I pursed my lips and shoved my hands inside the pockets of my jeans. "Well, it was nice talking to you, Gordon, but I have a class waiting for me. The Dread. Can you show me the way to the class?"

A smug, toothless smile was plastered on the lich's face. "I _am_ The Dread. And you have just passed the first test."

I raised a speculative brow. "But I didn't do anything." I told it.

Gordon's smile disappeared. "But you reacted the right way a warrior should. Godspeed, lady."

With that, Gordon opened the huge black double doors he was guarding and shoved me inside.

**It felt like forever before I gained a little awareness of where I was standing.**

It looked like I was in the movie set in _Land of the Dead_ 2007 version (the latest version sucked ass). The whole place had turned like its own personal hell. There were buildings—yes, buildings—burning even though I knew that I was inside a building too. But then, it could all be just holographic images. There were tons of liches and a few young people fighting. The smell of the place was as putrid as a whole cemetery of decaying bodies.

I choked back a gag and looked around the place. It was dark, the only source of light were the broken streetlamps on the pretend street and the fire that swallowed up buildings and trees.

There were groans from the liches and shouts of exultations from the youngsters fighting off the zombies that were chasing them with a speed I didn't know they had. One kid, a tall skinny one with a red bandana across his forehead, headbutted one lich and elbowed one at his side. He had two companions, one a guy just as tall as he with striking dark skin and dark hair was clearly handsome and had a lot of battle skills on his sleeve, and one girl with a skinny almost bony physique with dark skin and dark hair. The handsome one had a saber sword with him and was openly fighting two on one with the liches. The short, skinny girl with the same dark skin as the boy had dark hair that was shaded with more orange and light brown than black looked as catty as Catwoman herself. The girl looked fit to fight despite her bony body.

The liches, facing the battalion of three, didn't back away, but more swarmed in on them, but not enough to overwhelm the fearsome threesome.

The skinny girl was a puncher, and it made sense, since she had fingerless gloves on with metal knuckles. She threw punches like she was born to do it and kicked out her leg to deflect one undead arm reaching out to her. The handsome one showed off a set of impressive moves with his saber, decapitating and amputating a number of zombies. Those moves didn't really stop the liches from attacking though. It only slowed them down, having their heads and hands cut off wasn't an easy thing to ignore—even for the undead. Red Bandana fought them off with pure physical strength. He wasn't muscular, but I could clearly see that he had speed and agility—maybe a little too much of them, but hey, he's an Academist, I shouldn't be too surprised. The trio made a good group.

As I stood watching them, I didn't see the liches that were marching toward me with determined speed. There were at least six, and most of them carried weapons. Uh-oh.

Before the liches could attack me, I charged, attacking them first. I had to be in control, I had to attack first, were the thoughts that kept me running as I threw three star daggers toward the three of the liches who had no weapons. I took off on my place and took the liches by surprise. I landed in a thud in front of them and started taking away their weapons from their surprised grips.

I used their own weapons against them. I batted two liches on the head so hard, their heads came toppling off. I struck about two or three on their legs, and they fell to the dirty street ground. The place looked like a broken and burning version of Las Vegas.

I let my adrenaline and warrior instincts drive me until all of the liches were on the ground, groaning and trying to stand up. If I wasn't so stunned at what had just happened, I would have made a small victory dance. I retrieved my star daggers, and before I could look up, I could hear more groans. I looked around and there were at least two dozen zombies closing in on me.

_Holy cow_, I thought and looked around for a weapon. My daggers were no use now, and the golf club the lich was carrying was clearly bought cheap because it was now as rotten as the liches.

Finally, a thought struck me. What if I use my powers?

My initial answer was hell, yes, but I thought better, knowing that I would definitely keel over anytime I stop using the powers.

And then, my brilliance didn't fail me. I called at the fearsome threesome with the loudest "HELP!" I could manage. And then, just like that, they were there, battling against the swarm of liches that were circling me. Handsome chopped off heads, and Skinny punched heads until they came off. Red Bandana threw kicks and punches in a blur. I fought some myself, using my bare hands. Something stung when I was done punching two lich heads off but I didn't care. I round-kicked a lich and it went backing away.

I thought that that move would drive them away, but more of them came at me, looking at me with their empty eyes as if I was the biggest threat they had had since their awakening.

But just as I was preparing to battle them off again, a very low sound sounded out of nowhere. The pitch was so low it was barely noticeable, but it had a resonance that chilled my skin and raised goose-bumps all over my body. The lcihes stopped dead (haha, get it—dead? Okay, not funny—moving on) on their tracks. The groans stopped and all of them looked at…somewhere. I looked too, and what I saw had my eyes going wide.

I heard a faint "Oh, my God," from the skinny girl with deadly punches. The fearsome threesome was quiet and they stood still in a battle stance as if they were expecting more attacks. But from what I'm, seeing now, it was possible that more attacks would be sent.

On the top of a mountain of debris, dirt, sand, and about everything else, a man—no, not a man, but a lich was there, riding a black horse that huffed fire out of its nose. The lich didn't look like a normal one, unlike the ones battling us just a while ago. This one looked very, very powerful. It was wearing some kind of flowing tunic and a dark turban that covered its head. It eyes were pure glowing globes of cobalt blue that just screamed POWER at me.

Its glowing eyes landed on me for a second, and the its dead mouth started to move.

It was talking in a loud, low-pitched guttural language that I didn't understand, but all the liches seemed like they did. They groaned again, and to my damnedest surprise, they started walking off.

Why does everyone keep walking away from me? Do I stink or something?

Seconds later, the place was free of liches and I was alone with the fearsome threesome. I looked at them from their places. They looked young, but the looks on their eyes told me that they had witnessed and joined many battles like this. I mourned at how the young were in this generation. Most of them were thrown to the wolves lest of political discrimination. The lucky ones, like me, had to endure the danger too, but not as much. But I didn't like the thought of cowering behind men in times like this—I wanted to go to battle, I wanted to get my own respect and not only from my family name. I wanted _Hathaway_ respect, not Mazur.

The girl looked at me and her eyes gleamed with something like familiarity. "Hey, you're Hathaway,"

I cleared my throat. "Yeah…"

Red Bandana said something in a language I couldn't understand. What was up with the multi-lingual Academists?

Well, I thought, Academists _were_ geniuses.

Skinny gave Red Bandana a chiding look before turning to look at Handsome. His face was solemn, but as soon as he saw Skinny looking at him, his expression changed into annoyance and what looked almost comically like utter dislike.

"What do you want?" he said under his breath, but it was not low enough. His voice was so deep it was almost a growl.

"Our quest." Skinny pointed an orange-tipped finger toward my direction. "_Thou shalt find damsel and bring her to thy temple._"

That irked me up. "_Damsel_?"

The two ignored me. "How can you be so sure?"

I shot Red Bandana a look. He shrugged at me and turned to look at the two. I didn't know why but there seemed something missing on Red Bandana's face, I just didn't know what.

"Can you see any girl who needs help around here?" Skinny snapped back.

"Yes, I do. And that's you. You need help from the mental institution."

"Oh, you're impossible!"

"My thoughts exactly, darling." said Handsome.

"Ugh, I hate you." The girl grumbled.

"And I you."

The girl growled and turned her head back from him and gave Red Bandana a look.

The tall skinny guy with olive skin had only one eye—yes, that was it. His eyes—or rather, eye was almond-shaped from Chinese descent. He had spiky black hair and an attitude that he didn't hide. An attitude that I have witnessed from people I was dealing with all my life.

"You're a mafia," I said suddenly.

The guy gave me a startled look. "I'm not," he said.

"Yes, you are." I insisted.

"No, I'm not. I'm a gangster—Bloodz. Or rather, _was_."

"Same thing,"

Red Bandana chose that time to ignore me and say something to the girl. She looked indecisive for a moment, and then gave in to what she was indecisive about.

"Hathaway," she said in an authorative tone. "You need to come with us." With that, they turned their backs on me in unison, assuming I'd cooperate with them. I wasn't that easy though.

"Hey," I called. They stopped and turned their heads toward me. "Aren't introductions necessary?" I asked.

The girl sighed and they whirled around, still in unison. "I'm Ara Arbolado," the girl said. She pointed and Red Bandana. "This is Jericho Ng," She pointed at the handsome one. "and this is—"

"Fredmar," the guy said, crossing his arms across his chest, looking bored.

"Douche bag," Ara said at the same time.

"I heard that."

They bickered like that on and on until we were at a very nice, but very broken casino. It had a big flickering sign saying "The Witching Hour."

The place looked as normal as it could be in The Dread. The casino still had all its lights on in spite of the visible damage implicated. Something in my gut twisted, telling me that something was very wrong. But then again, _everything_ was wrong right now, so I chose to ignore the feeling. By the time we stepped on the parking lot, I heard horse hooves hitting the cement, and then in a flash, we were surrounded by four liches with those weird glowing eyes and fire-breathing horses.

Curses were spat by Ara, Jericho and Fredmar. They looked ready to fight, but they looked more fascinated than scared. The demons had the same effect on me, but at least I had enough control on my facial features to hide them. I automatically crouched to my battle stance and prepared to fight.

Each lich was unique in their own undead way. One had a flaming red turban, one had a brilliant green tunic, another had a cover across its mouth, and the last one was the same lich we saw just a while ago. But despite of all their differences, they all had the same glowing blue globes for eyes.

Badass Liches, I called them.

"What are they?" I asked Ara.

She didn't take her eyes off the lich with a red turban. "The Dread. I never thought I'd see the day. The Dreads are the deadliest among all Academy creatures. They're said to be the God of the Underworld's personal guards—the Vessel's good friends, too."

I chewed on that for a moment. "I thought Gordon was The Dread."

"What?" Ara risked a look back at me. "Who's Gordon?"

"You know, the lich guarding the door with a breath so bad it had its own color."

"Oh. That was the Vessel's personal bodyguard. A former Civil War general, I heard."

That made sense with its accent. "But I thought The Dread was only one," I said, sounding confused.

"There are many, Hathaway. Now, put your head in the game." she snapped, and I did what she said.

By a coincidence or whatever joke God pulled me into, I was staring into the eyes of the lich that had the bone horn—the one who retrieved the liches from our battle.

I gave it my deadliest glare.

Its eyes narrowed at me, and then it spoke.

"You are hereby summoned to the Temple of Unforgiving Doom. Be prepared for the wrath of thy Vessel of the Underworld." it said, his guttural voice rife with satisfaction.

And just like that, I was shoved in another dimension of wherever the hell I was. Again.

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**Come on, press the review button and type something for me. You know you want to… I'll update sooner if you'll review… ;-)**

**xOxO,**

**K8**


	12. Chapter 11

**This chapter is an AxR one. Or at least I think it is.**

**Hope you like it, and thanks for the reviews, everybody! =)**

**((= Read on peers! =))**

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**Chapter Eleven**

**1046T hours**

**10:46 AM, Abaddon, Temple of Unforgiving Doom**

I landed with an outraged "Oof!" on a cold marble floor. I stood up and looked about. I clucked my tongue. The place was fancy with a capital F. Despite the fanciness, it also screamed OLD MONEY at me. Tacky, for me. There were tons of antiques and scary paintings of people and families, the kind that just seemed to stare at you until you run screaming like a madwoman.

The lich probably didn't know that I was a "friendly acquaintance" to the Vessel of Hades, though I didn't know why he would. Even best friends keep secrets from each other. Not that I believed that Adrian was best buddies with the Badass Liches, or rather, The Dread(s).

I entered a room with more fancy stuff. That was when I also heard the low arguing voices of males.

As the room came into full view, I could now see the two arguing…_men_. They were men, but men who held powers beyond one person could comprehend. From their body language, the tension was clear between the two. They were wearing their stupid cloaks again with the hoods down.

The taller one, Dimitri, stood so still he looked like a statue. His voice echoed inside the room that crackled with authority and power that he had kept hidden when he was with me that one short time at the Temple. I never thought of Dimitri the person who held his power back—I wouldn't have been surprised if he flaunted them. But Dimitri holding back? I didn't know what the answer was, but I sure as hell wasn't expecting Dimitri quelling.

Okay, back to the present…

Adrian wasn't still. In fact, he looked antsy. So antsy, he looked like he was about to pace around the room until his footsteps put a mark on the fancy marble floor. Adrian shook his head and moved his hands vigorously in a way I would have thought was denial.

I scrunched my face up in confusion as I heard their voices, but couldn't make out the words. Maybe they were speaking in another language. Again with the multi-lingual Academists (not that they were Academists). Was I the only one who spoke English in front of other people who can understand them? I mean, I teach myself to be a lady (queue for gag) once in a while, and one of them had been ridding my habit of talking in my native tongue in front of Americans. Now it was just like a blow on my face to hear people _not_ speaking English in front of me. Or maybe they weren't aware of my presence. Yet.

I wondered what the Academy had done to make me so irate, too. I wasn't this sensitive before. Maybe they were my raging teenage hormones. I held back a snort. As if. I was eighteen now, for Pete's sake. I'm not a teenager anymore. Or am I? Whatever.

And then, it seemed like the place where Dimitri and Adrian were arguing was far away. Very far. I couldn't hear them now; only the deep rumble of what had been their voices. But still, I could see them.

I frowned and wondered what just happened. It was like I had been looking through binoculars before. Whatever. With a shrug to myself, I walked in the wide room. Was this what they call the Temple of Unending Doom? Gosh, the basement at Father's Agency was way scarier than this so-called temple of their beloved God of the Underworld.

The Vessels were still busy arguing when I stopped dead on my tracks. There was a…_thing_ in front of me. And that _thing_ was growling, and baring its long sharp teeth at me. It was short, didn't even reach my knees, but the _thing_ was packed with its own muscles. Its dark eyes glittered darkly at me. It was all I had to do to stay where I was. I didn't like _animals_, and I tended to call them _things_. I had an aversion to animals, but I didn't go kicking them around when I see one. It was just that they didn't like me, and the feeling was gladly mutual.

I gulped but didn't show my fear. Instead, I stood in front of it and bared my teeth at the little devil.

"Get the fuck out of my way, pit bull. I can kick your freakin' little dog ass to China if I wanted to and it's going to hurt." I told it. What was I doing? Talking to a dog? Maybe I was going crazy, and nobody bothered to tell me that I was.

The devil bared his teeth at me as if daring me to try.

So I did.

Three minutes later of unending arguing with the Vessels, I already had the canine by his feet, tying them with an improvised version of cuffs (the cuffs were from the curtain). I tied it by his four legs so it couldn't move. The devil thrashed, but finally, to my satisfaction, grew tired. It resorted into growling loudly and I couldn't help but think about putting an extra gag with the cuffs. But as much as I loved the thought of gagging the devil, I didn't.

I left it there, growling and drooling on the brocade couch. Quietly and unobtrusively, I walked to the platform where the two were arguing in low voices. Now that I was near enough, it was true that they were not speaking in English. Perhaps it was Russian or another language that made you sound angry.

I stopped in front of the platform and looked at the two of them, an interested look plastered on my face. I listened to them argue in that angry language. I don't know, but I thought I heard my name being said once or twice while I listened.

Finally, when I grew tired of listening to them argue, I let out the loudest barf I could manage. And then another one, and a small one escaped after that.

It echoed around the room and rendered the Vessels quiet. They turned their heads to me, startled looks on each of their respective faces.

"Sorry. Gas." I wiggled my eyebrows at them. I looked at Adrian. "You were expecting me?"

Dimitri arched up a brow, a movement that I envied. I looked at Dimitri, and as soon as our gazes connected, sparks flew. I mean…yeah, I could make sparks fly out of my hands, but sparks flying out of nowhere without my permission? No way in hell was that remotely possible.

I jumped back, startled, and then I realized that I just showed a weakness in front of them. I scolded myself for jumping back at such an infinitesimal thing, but I was startled, okay? Even the fearless of all people get startled from time to time. And, for one, I'm no exception when it comes to startling, so that was forgivable.

I looked up at the two Vessels. They had, if it was possible, more confused and startled looks on their faces. I absently scratched the scar on my wrist when it tingled. This was awkward.

"So, yeah…I have gas." I said, interrupting the awkward silence. "And when I have gas, sparks tend to fly." I didn't know where that came from, but I was glad I had an excuse.

Dimitri shook his head, but I couldn't figure out what he was shaking his head about. Maybe I was being disrespectful to their almighty presence? Nah, I already established the law that I don't bow down to anyone—I had more self-respect than that, and I'm sure that Dimitri, of all people, could understand that. The only one who could order me around was Father and, sometimes, if he was lucky enough, Yilmaz.

"Rose," I silently thanked Adrian for cutting in on the awkward moment.

I gladly looked away from Dimitri's dark, almost tantalizing, stare. "Adrian, nice to see you again."

Dimitri made a noise that sounded like a derisive snort. I shot him a look. That was so immature for such a grown up guy like him. He pursed his lips as he returned my look.

"I'll leave you two alone." Dimitri said, not taking his gaze off mine. I heard the silent message there: I'll see you later. With that, Dimitri looked away and glided off the room and into what looked like a dark room. There were no sounds that indicated his retreat.

When I was sure Dimitri wasn't there anymore, I turned to Adrian with my fiercest glare. "What do you want?" My tone was unnecessarily harsh, but I liked the effect it had on Adrian. He took a step back and blanched. Well, he didn't visibly blanch, but from his expression, he could have. Vessels were confusing beings, and that's saying something.

"I summoned you because I wanted to apologize for my rather _crass_ actions last night."

"Oh, and what were they? Your rather _crass actions_, hm?" I asked him and leaned in closer to the platform.

To my dismay, Adrian had already composed himself. "I was rude in saying my parting messa—"

I waved that off with a disgusted snort. "Oh, please, I was born in 2039, not the friggin' 1800s! Please talk the talk, do not talk the old-talk with me." Goodness, I had such a hot temper. I didn't know where this…_emotion_ came from, but I was a bit jumpy today. Okay, jumpy would be putting it too lightly, but I had no more words to describe what I was feeling.

Adrian didn't even pretend he hadn't heard what I said. "You don't have any kind of filter between your brain and mouth, do you?" Somehow, he sounded more amused than outraged.

I gave him a smile filled with sarcasm. "I'm glad you know me so well."

Adrian inclined his head and smiled that stupid rakish grin of his. It made him look so gorgeous and male, but if he was compared to Dimitri, I'd pick the latter. "I'm pleased—I mean, I'm happy you came here without causing any trouble. I thought you would have knocked the lights out of those Dreads when they sent you to me."

"I would have, but they sent me here using that stupid magic portal that just disappears and appears out of nowhere."

Adrian frowned. "I told them to escort you here and not do you harm."

I remembered the Badass Lich's words and shrugged. "Why should they? They thought I was brought here for penance," I told him a matter-of-factly.

Adrian's frown deepened. "But still, they should have done what I ordered them to. They work for me."

I _tsk_ed and gave him a disapproving look. "Then that means you're losing your touch."

Adrian outright scowled.

"And let me tell you, buddy, as a girl who flirts with politics, I know that that sign ain't good if you're a leader."

"I know," was his reply. He sighed and went down the platform and stood next to me. Adrian was a couple inches over six feet, not as tall as Dimitri, but he was naturally big and lengthy.

He turned to me with a glint in his emerald eyes. "What do you think, Little Flower? What action do you think is best to take to regain the control of my minions?"

Wait, what did he call me? Little Flower? WTF? Something censuring must have crossed my face because Adrian chuckled, the sound as smooth as silk.

"Your name's Rose—it's a flower. You're small, hence, little. Or do you want me to call you Fat Ogre?"

I shot him daggers. "You wouldn't,"

"Who'd stop me? You can't." he said and I knew he was right. If Vessels wanted to do something, there was no stopping them, but I wasn't about to let him call me stupid names in public.

My lips tightened, and ignored the fact that he just deliberately called me small and generalized my name. "Fine, call me whatever you like, but don't go ballistic if I go tell them that you just had an orgy with a Hollywood star with your liches."

A look of pure horror crossed Adrian's face. I smiled. "I thought that'd stop you," I said and spun around, taking in the obnoxiously big ballroom that had too much brightness in them that it almost looked tacky.

"Anyway, you needed my help in your 'leader strategies', right?" Only a stupid person would have missed the imaginary air-quotations.

"Yes, I did."

I spun again to look at Adrian. "Being naturally dominant, I always go for power-play, you know? I like to take charge, to be in control, and if anybody defies me, I punish them."

Adrian's brows rose until it nearly touched his forehead. "Are you saying I should let them pay penance? Punish them if they dare disobey?"

I shrugged. "What do you think I've said?" I asked him cryptically.

And then, the bulb up on Adrian's head lit up. "Are you indicating that I'm a wuss?" he asked me with an incredulous look on his face.

Again, I shrugged. Adrian was a bit slow, I figured. "Am I done playing strategist, oh mighty Vessel? Can I get out of here now? I'm already running late for lunch, and you don't like to see me when I'm hungry." I told him.

"Not yet," he said quickly and paced up to me and held my hand. I would have told him to keep his hands to himself if he didn't look so serious now. "I'm curious, Rose." he said so quietly I barely heard him.

I felt warmth crawling up to me slowly as I watched him cautiously. Yeah, I guess there was attraction between us, but it wasn't too strong a feeling that I wanted to puke. I guess—for a guy—he was a bearable kind. "You're always curious," I noted.

He looked at me straight in the eyes and the green in them was so bright I could have squinted. "What is it about you that pulls me in?" he asked softly, more to himself than me.

A smile appeared on my face. "It's just my irresistible charms and stunning looks. Nothing so drastic about me, Adrian." I told him and poked his wrist until he let me go.

He pulled back and the earlier flush that spread across my body was gone now. His expression had closed off, leaving a guarded look on his handsome features.

"No, it is not that. It is obvious that you are very beautiful and full of wit and charm but there is something else… something that just captivates me. And Belikov." He said and caught me looking at him with a weird expression. Who the heck was Belikov? He shook his head and then put on that rakish grin of his. "Well, whatever you have, I intend to uncover it." His eyes roamed around my body, his eyes revealing the faintest hint of the man he was. "And I mean all of it."

With a flick of Adrian's hand, I stumbled into a deep pit of blackness, and landed on something hard and I had the feeling that I haven't landed on marble.

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**So…what do you think about Adrian? What was Dimitri and Adrian talking about before Rose walked in? And who's Belikov? Whoops, you already know… LOL =) Questions, questions… Want some Dimitri moments? A new character in WLS I got from VA? REVIEW so that the next chapter would be posted in three days!**

**xOxO,**

**K8**

**P.S. Yes, it's blackmail, but a good bargain. So review.**


	13. Chapter 12

**Hey Guys! Sorry for the delay, I was a bit busy with school, but anyway…read on peers! BTW, this is a short chapter, so…yeah, that's it. Okay, read now, I don't have anything to say now.**

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**Chapter Twelve**

**1122T hours**

**11:22 AM Montana Mountain, Mountain Midday Light**

**Lunch Break**

I looked down and heaved a long-suffering sigh. I had landed on the ground where Academists were streaming in and out of the main building. Some crowded up to look at me. I wanted to punch Adrian's face over and over again until he was black and blue for embarrassing me like this. Luckily enough, I didn't land on anybody. That would have been doubly embarrassing. It seemed like I'm always either put to sleep, falling, tripping and getting tied up every time in the Academy.

Academy life sucked asses.

"May I help you up?" A smooth voice asked me, holding out a luminously pale hand to help me up.

I took his hand and stood up.

"Are you alright?" the voice asked, and I looked up. What I saw stunned me to damn-near silence. The guy was so hot he should have worn a "warning: flammable" sign. He had light golden blond hair that fell across his face like a four-o-clock shadow, and a face that could rival with Adonis's. Too bad he was only a couple of inches taller than my five-seven. I was a sucker for tall guys—still am.

He smiled at me and his face took a more luminous glow to them, it looked like fluorescent lights were turned on under his skin. He raked his hair with his fingers; his azul blue eyes sparkled as bright as the sea.

"Hey, you're Hathaway," he said, his voice hinting an amused tone. He must have noticed that I was more or less gawking at him. Geez, Louise.

Great, a hottie knows me only by my last name and by my reputation for fainting dead whenever I use too much of my powers. So far, so good.

I returned his smile, but somehow, I felt stupid for it. "Rose Hathaway," I corrected him.

He rubbed his chin with eerily long and graceful fingers. It was strange how the guy seemed so perfect. Yeah, perfect, and that's saying something because it was not often I describe people as that. His face was scar-free, and flawless, his jaw square enough to define his masculinity, and cheekbones so high I wondered why he could still see (I meant that in a good way). But out of all his assets, what captivated me the most was his skin. It was practically glowing, making him look inhumanly beautiful. Not in an Edward Cullen sort of way, but like a chandelier sort of way.

I blinked, feeling a little tipsy from either looking at him for too long or from Adrian's instant teleportation.

"My name's Jesse. Jesse Zeklos," he told me put a lock of my short hair behind my ear. His touch was warm and tingly. It felt nice, but also…it felt wrong.

Instantly, I pulled back from him gave him a dry smile. "Russian, I presume."

His lips cocked to one side. "Romanian if you're referring to the last name."

Again with my Romanian-Russian confusion…

I stopped mid-sigh—I sure did a lot of sighing since I got here. "Sorry, I really get confused at times, especially now. I was just teleported here from somewhere…" I blinked and shook my head to clear the fog that was clouding the rational part of me. Damn Adrian and his stupid antics.

Jesse was still smiling and I was vaguely aware of a crowd forming to look at us. Wow, we're so damn popular.

"Do you want me to escort you to the lunch room or the infirmary? You don't look so well." It was weird how Jesse still kept smiling. There was no hint of concern as he said that I didn't look well, and there I noticed—from his perfect-ish exterior—that he had started to sweat. His glow seemed to have dimmed as well.

"You don't look so well yourself." I said and extricated myself away from his hold. He didn't grab me as I'd thought he would, but he just rocked on his heels and wiped a few droplets of sweat from his face with a handkerchief. Whoa, what kind of guy brings a hanky on a daily basis? Apparently, a sissy.

Jesse had lost his glow now and I could faintly see shadows forming like bags under his eyes.

Thankfully, the cloud in my head was gone now and I caught Jesse when he stumbled. I nearly cringed. A guy who fainted? What the heck?

The crowd let out a few disappointed noises and a lot of surprised ones. Jesse struggled to stand straight but he was far too gone to even at least open his eyes.

"Gosh, you're drunk." I told Jesse in my arms. He made a sound of denial. "Or stoned. Yeah, that's it. You _are_ stoned." I knew that it was a sin to generalize, but, by God, Jesse was such a pansy. Pussy would sound better, but it was better to use a milder word.

I looked up to scan a familiar face at the crowd. There was none, but just as soon as I gathered the will to throw Zeklos off me, a head of platinum blond scurried through the sea of other heads. It was Lissa, looking alarmed and beautiful as always. She caught the sight of Zeklos in my arms and she dashed towards us, checking for pulses and pupils dilate.

"He's stoned," I said with complete conviction when I saw Jesse's dilated pupils when Lissa flashed her penlight. "His pupils are too big."

"It's because I'm flashing the penlight, Rose, not because he's had too many drugs. Come to think of it, I'm convinced that he _does_ do drugs. Thanks for the theory, Rose, you just gave me my first." said Lissa. I was more than surprised when Lissa put her hands on each side of Jesse's pale face and leaned in…

With a yelp, I moved Zeklos away from Lissa's grip. She gave me a flustered look. My eyes nearly bugged out. "Why are you kissing him? For all we know, he could have drug virus or something!"

Lissa looked a little abashed when the crowd thickened around the show which was, unfortunately, us. "It's how I heal people, Rose."

"Then why don't you use your hands or something. Just don't put your lips against any part of him. God only knows he has poison on his sweat or something." I admit that I was being paranoid, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Lissa gave me a patient yet chastising look as if I was her would-be patient rather than the guy in my arms. "It doesn't work well that way. My mouth should come to contact with—"

"Oh my God, Lissa, you're doing that as an excuse to kiss him." I blurted, and then my eyes widened. "Oh my God, it's Tourette's! I have Tourette's syndrome! I'm saying things that I don't mean to say!"

Lissa opened her mouth to say something, but a startlingly familiar voice cut through our drama. "I hope you all have a good reason for not being in the lunch room." The words were spoken quietly, but the power and authority of the voice was unmistakable. I looked up and saw the very tall and big figure of Dimitri among the back of the crowd. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, Dimitri went through the crowd without any problem of getting hit. The crowd has made room for him to pass, and some Academists scurried away and into the main building.

I scowled at Dimitri. It wasn't that I didn't like him—in fact, I liked him more than I felt comfortable with—but it was how he handled people. It was how charismatic he was. But then, charisma can only be used if one thing is there—respect. They respected Dimitri, which was why they made room for him. Unlike my situation, they crowded me until I could barely breathe. I didn't like that very well.

"Oh, and the Vessel arrives. This just keeps getting better." I bit my lips hard after I inadvertently said those words. Damn, did Zeklos pass me his Tourette's? I didn't know that Tourette's was contagious. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't.

As soon as the words left my mouth, there were gasps and murmurs. I rolled my eyes, and gave Dimitri Zeklos's unconscious form.

Luckily, Dimitri took him from me. As soon as Jesse's skin was no longer connected with mine, my head cleared.

"What the fuck just happened?" I asked, the words now came from me and not from a weird outsourced and very unreliable help from some alien part of me.

Dimitri, giving Jesse to a few bulky guys in leather vests and weird shiny tights, shot me a mild censuring look before giving orders to the Men in Tights what to do to Jesse Zeklos. Whoa, I hadn't known that Jesse Zeklos held that much influence to be that significant to the Vessel. Or maybe it was just a guy thing. I looked at Dimitri and shrugged. Guys, even ones with powers beyond our imaginations, were weird.

I turned to Lissa, and pointed a finger at her. "Tell me what happened."

Lissa licked her lips nervously. "Jesse's touch makes you feel irrational." was all she said. I had gone from Death Touch to Irrational Touch, what's next? Snot Touch? Was Elmo going to pop out of nowhere and sing that ridiculous song of his?

"Don't hold back information from me, Lissa." I told her.

Lissa's eyes darted to Dimitri and she licked her lips again. Her lips weren't chapped or dry; I didn't know why she kept doing that. "It's just that…Jesse's touch made you irrational—made you say irrational stuffs, hence, the babbling and assumption of having Tourette's syndrome." She licked her lips and bit them until they were bright pink. "You see, usually, Jesse has certain…_talents_. His touch—um, I don't really know how to put this, but it _enslaves_ you to him. They make you irrational—irrationally in love, that is. He can make you devoted to him—enthrall you. But when it came to you, he downgraded. It looked like he was trying too hard to thrall you, that's why he keeled." Lissa said and patted down stray strands of her hair.

That was just as impossible to believe as saying that there were lakes on mountains. But in fact, Academically speaking, there were.

The mountain's wind picked up. Despite the Camouflage that protected us from being seen in mortal eyes, we could still feel the effect of the weather, naturally.

Dimitri's cloak fluttered in the wind, and he motioned us to get inside.

We followed him without a single protest.

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**I'll be updating on Saturday.**

**xOxO,**

**K8**


	14. Chapter 13

**Thanks for the reviews, guys. Read on, and all of you rock!**

**A/N: Beware of the use of too much "apparently/apparent" and "almost."**

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**Chapter Thirteen**

**1135T hours**

**11:35 AM Lunch Room, St. Vladimir's Academy**

**Lunch Break**

Lunch was uneventful. The same usual crap was held, but apparently, Lissa and I were escorted by one of the Vessel, and to the student body's surprise and shock, that has never happened before (And apparently, the Vessels were treated and seen as gods here in the Academy). Usual chatter with Kristin and Lissa—and even the anti-social Kendall spoke a little—came and went. With the conversation I had with Lissa, I grew closer to her, but I didn't know why. It was unusual for me to connect with someone so unlike me. For one, she was blonde, and I was a proud brunette—it was a clear fact that I never got along with blondes, considering my past relationships with my majority enemies all over the globe.

But then again, Yin and Yang got along well, didn't they?

And, by God, I was such a hair racist—if there was ever such a person called that.

Lissa was the daughter of the deceased Eric Dragomir, ascendant of almost half of Ukraine and Romania. Eric had been a great leader (or history says so)—loyal and brave. Despite his regal looks and being royal by blood, he had never prided himself in being two country's major ruler, but he had said he was their worker, brother, father, but never leader. I admired Eric for that. He and Father were not close, but they knew each other and were acquainted with one another before Eric died from a car wreck that killed Lissa's family, and awakened her shamanic powers.

I thought I had given up the worst of me for these unwanted powers, but Lissa, not expecting her powers too, had lost her whole family because of that.

Yeah, I know. To have powers, you have to give up the most valuable things in our lives—wanted or unwanted. Sucks, right? Well, that's freakin' balance. Yin and Yang. Shoot.

"But that was almost ten years ago." she said placidly. "Time doesn't heal, but time makes it a little bearable especially when you have the right people to help you cope with them." She smiled at me, and I wondered what I did to have met this wonderful, awe-inspiring girl.

I smiled back at her, a little timid, but still my trademark smile.

"Announcement, Academists," the words crackled around the room, followed by what suspiciously sounded like a fart. The Academists giggled with different tones. I tried to raise a brow, but that move had always been one of the things I could never pull off. I ended up laughing at myself. Lissa, seeing the epic fail of the cock of the eyebrow, barked out a laugh. Kristin just outright laughed, and even Kendall smothered one. I didn't know who she laughed at, but I was glad that she had lightened up. Wait—I was glad for her? I should be mad for her for making me feel inferior without my consent!

"Sorry about that. Okay, announcement: there will be gladiator fights held this Friday, courtesy of the majority of the student body. There will be three fights for the night, two contenders will fight with the same gender, and one round will be dedicated to a one-on-one match with opposite genders. You may vote for your contenders only once. Votes will be counted the day before the fight. I hope that is clear to all of you. Thank you and enjoy your lunch."

Excitement filled the air like static, raising goose bumps on my flesh. The Academists started talking in frenzy at once, their eyes sparking with the thrill while they babbled to two of their seatmates. Girls released half-screams of enthusiasm, boys eyes searched all over the room as if locating their victim. It was a likely fact that they were looking for their contenders in this alleged gladiator fight. Ack, what a thrill for them.

Me? I had no idea what this was. So, I asked Lissa. She read my look before I could ask. How she knew me so well, I didn't know.

"Gladiator fights are our annual—or usually annual, since it's the second time we had it this year—skirmish. We do that to contend either the most powerful and capable contender, or the arrogant and assuming fool. There's only one winner every skirmish. In this year, we have two, and those two will have to fight at the end of the year." she explained, excitement evident in her too. And then, her smile changed a little, reminding me of a naughty girl. "I'm sure you're going to make a great contender, Rose. You have the power and the capability to fight—admit it, you're a warrior at heart, and you don't take defeat well, so you do your best to win. You're a perfect contender, Rose. Think about it."

To my horror, I did think about it. Not only Lissa was right about me not being able to take defeat well, but she was right about me being a warrior at heart. Ever since I had my own mind to think, I had been fighting, training and arresting criminals. When I was still a seven-year-old girl, I could remember those trainings I had in Taekwondo. How my trainer had bent and stretched my body until I was flexible enough. How he let me punch blocks of cement to increase my strength. How he made me run ten laps a day to boost my stamina. When I was ten, he made me do more difficult and more painful things (and now that he was hologram, I took advantage of it and skipped classes at times). I had been trained by the best fighters, and was taught by the best scholars too, but when it came to competition for the brains, it was worse than any physical test I have endured.

I'd take up punching through walls from academic tests any day. Calculus—especially calculus. Gosh, that sounded so wrong. I meant that I was only moderate when it came to academics, but I was _superior_ in physical tests—or so I like to call myself.

After lunch, I was still thinking about Lissa's words and how the impact of it hit me. Sure, I was a true warrior, but did I have the guts? Yes. Do I want to be a contender and fight? Yes. Was I foolhardy or an apt capable fighter? I still didn't know, and there was no way in hell I was assuming that I'd win—or let alone be voted as one of the contenders. I'd had my fair share of disappointments in assumptions.

**1308T hours**

**1:08 PM, Montana Mountain, Afternoon Light**

**Class: Smooth Talking Stranger**

My next class was called "Smooth Talking Stranger" and from the sound of it, I knew exactly who—or what—taught that class. I ran through a couple of familiar faces when I went there. Jericho and his bandana was there, Ara, the other guy was nowhere to be found, some elemental beings, and Christian Ozera—Tasha's nephew who looked no younger than her.

Mason was inside the room, ready to start the class. He smiled at me. "Rose, are we back to fighting again?"

I gave him my best frown. "Of course not. Why would we fight? You were so sweet the last time we talked." I almost gagged as I remembered the colorful combination of my puke.

"Hey," he called when I turned my back on him. He gestured me to come closer to him. I folded my arms across my chest and put on an annoyed look.

"Tell me from here, Ashford."

He sighed and ran a hand through his red hair, his face turning beet red. "I'm sorry for what I did this morning." He pointed at my gauze-riddled hand. I frowned again, but this time, it was of confusion. How could I not remember that I had just cut my palm? Oh…because Dimitri healed it. Rawr. Hot damn.

I waved his apology off. "I'm used to it." I turned my back on him and started walking to the bleachers. There was another thought—the rooms had no ordinary armchairs, they had bleachers. Well, good grief.

"Rose!" Mason called again. Now the students were milling inside the room, occupying the bleachers. I stopped and looked back at him. His face was redder than before, it made him look almost adorable. Almost. "Friends?"

I almost smiled. "Sure. _Friends_."

The class started in a jiffy. There was no mistaking that Mason was time-efficient. The class was basic—or basic for me, that is, since I can now resist Mason's so-called mind-control. A girl named Almia, or Mia for short, with wavy golden locks and heavily tanned skin that made her look more like a Barbie surfer girl, volunteered to take up Mason's invitation.

"Okay, I want you to concentrate and don't listen to my voice in your head. Resist it, push it away."

Mia nodded attentively and her sky blue eyes went hard as if she was doing mental math. Mason just looked intently at Mia. She started sweating five seconds later, and she trembled. Mason just looked at her, unmoving. Seconds later, Mia shuddered and her eyes closed and then she collapsed, landing on her knees while she wiped her sweat.

Mason clamped Mia's shoulder and helped her up. "Twenty-three seconds, a new record for Mia Rinaldi. Good job, girlie."

Mia smiled up at Mason and went back to her seat while Mason picked another volunteer. Now, it was me.

I looked at him. "What?"

"Rose," he said kindly, "Would you volunteer?"

Slowly, not sure of what I was getting myself into, I stood up and walked toward Mason. "What do I do?" I stage-whispered.

Mason hid a smile as he shook his head at me, making red hair fall over his face. "Resist the order of my voice. You already did that on your first encounter with me. Why can't you do it now?"

I shrugged and prepared to do the deed. It started like it started before. Screams, sounds of sirens, and an electric guitar sounded out of nowhere. Hey, I don't know why there was a guitar, but I was just stating what I was hearing. Conga, too. And then his voice sounded. It sounded like he was singing. Okay, he was totally singing in his head. From the back of my brain, I felt a telltale push of compulsion.

I looked at him questioningly. "You're making me sing 'Smooth'?"

He squinted his electric blue eyes at me. "No. I'm trying to make you dance."

I raised a brow, but again, failed. "Oh, really?" I executed a perfect pirouette. "Like that?"

Mason scratched his head, looking a little confused. "Ah…well…"

"Well, if it isn't the Hathaway loser. Didn't fall asleep on your way here, did you?"

The voice was sharp with venom, and the hate in the tone was well-delivered.

I stiffened. Never in my life had I been ever called and criticized like this. But then, those people I had been was knew their position and mine, and this girl didn't. Everybody in the room seemed to be waiting for my reaction and what I did looked like it disappointed them.

I didn't react. Mason did.

"Morgana, my dear sister, why are you late again? Didn't I tell you to come early so that I wouldn't report you to the Headmistress?" Mason sounded like a chastising teacher, but I could hear the underlying sadness and worry in him for his twin.

Morgana sneered at him. "I'm sure you won't take this to the Academy authorities, Mase. As for you, Hathaway," she turned to look at me, her gaze filled with antagonism so strong I never knew she had for me. Basically, I just thought that Morgana hated the whole world and just treated them with her devil-may-care attitude. No, I didn't know that Morgana had this strong a magnitude of emotion—especially one towards me.

I sniffed the air and smelled alcohol.

She pointed a finger at me. Now that I smelled the liquor, I knew she was drunk. Her motions were drunk too. Whoa, did she spend the whole two hours of lunch drinking alcohol? Cripes.

"You bitch, you're fucking stealing my spotlight. You're bribing my brother right now with your _irresistible looks_." Her words were slurred, but I still understood and it was one of those rare occasions that I was rendered speechless. "Mase is not really controlling your mind, ain't he? If you want to be popular, you bitch, work for it! Don't bribe the fucking trainers by fucking them! You're nobody; you're just a miserable wannabe! You're following the Vessels like you're their fucking sycophant, and guess what? The other Academists may believe your acts, but I can see through you! I'm Morgana Ashford, daughter of Michael Ashford, after all!"

Ashfords, I knew, were one of the major families involved deeply in military in America, close to many politicians, so they were safe in terms of money and allies. But what bugged me the most was that Morgana was using her last name and the power of it outside the Academy to seek out friends—or more likely, her very own _sycophants_. Talk about ironic. If she was an Ashford, that didn't mean that she had every right to make everybody in the Academy inferior because she was insecure. Yes, that was it. Morgana was just insecure.

I may be carrying the last name Hathaway in my papers, but I was a Mazur at heart, and Mazurs were not treated so heedlessly.

I tried to calm myself down, and decided to walk out, but what went out of her mouth just drove me to the edge. "You're _just_ a Hathaway. Just another nobody."

Nobody, not even myself, has put _just_ and _Hathaway_ together in one sentence. If ever I heard one say that, I would snap their necks like fucking twigs and eat their fucking brains. I gave her a sharp look and the expression on her face was drunkenly smug. Mason looked at me and put a hand on my elbow.

"Please, don't. She's not well. She's not worth the suspension you will get, Rose." Mason whispered to me.

Morgana let out a howling laugh. "Please, Mason, do _not_ interfere with my fight. You're just the same as always—a coward. You never had the courage I had—still have. You were just dad's perfect obedient son while I was cast out as the general's brash heedless daughter."

Somehow, this reminded me of me and Yilmaz.

I had enough of being spoken to as if I wasn't there. "You know, Morgana," I used the voice I had that could carry plainly through a hurricane. They hushed, and Morgana looked at me expectantly. "Stop pretending."

"What am I pretending, skank? You're the one who's acting like—"

I balled my fists tightly and held my temper in check. She's drunk, I told myself, she doesn't know what she's saying, so just buck up and don't fall for the drunkard's trap! "I disagree. I'm not pretending to be someone I'm not just because I want popularity—please, I have better things to do than that. You, Morgana, are the one who's pretending to be someone you're not. Basically, it's pot calling the kettle black. You keep up that tough-girl devil-may-care exterior of yours, but just today, I know exactly the reason why you hate the world so much. Or me, for this matter. You envy me because I'm, as you so crassly put it, _just_ a Hathaway. You envy me because of the capabilities that I have that you, and Ashford, don't. You hate everyone who gets in your way, and I'm in your way—'stealing' you goddamned spotlight."

For short, Morgana had a serious case of inferiority complex, but just covers it up with self-defiance and an unhealthy habit of being proud—so, she had fake superiority complex to cover up her insecurities. Odd, but understandable.

For the first time, Morgana stayed quiet. The flush the alcohol gave her was gone, replaced by an unhealthy shade of grey. The expression on her face blank, and her absurdly blue eyes dull.

I turned my back on her, gathered up my things and strode toward the door with long careless strides. I wasn't really proud in rendering Morgana speechless, but I felt rather sad and sorry for her. I shuddered and smothered the feeling of sympathy I had for her. When I was on the threshold, I looked back at her, saying, "And just for the record, I am not _just_ a Hathaway you can mess with without receiving dire consequences in return."

Once I was out of the room, I ran randomly, not looking where I was headed. It seemed like forever when I stopped. I was gasping for air, and clutching my knees, laughing a little at the absurdity of what I just did. I skipped a class and ran around the Academy in school hours. It was bad, I know, but I needed air. Morgana just took too much of my patience to let me stay still for a while.

And I just answered my unanswered question a while ago: _Was I foolhardy or an apt capable fighter?_ The answer was the latter, and I wasn't a self-assuming bastard. I just answered that at the heat of the moment. It was weird how right things come out of my mouth without my consent.

I dropped and sat at the ground for moments, collecting myself until my breathing was even. I was about to stand up and go to my next class when a voice stopped me.

"Rose, is that you?" The voice was familiar. "Hey, you, I was just thinking about you."

I looked back and saw Tasha Ozera.

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**Leave me a review. Ask a question and I'll answer you, promise.**

**xOxO,**

**K8  
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	15. Chapter 14

**I'm sad, and I think you know what's making me feel that way. Very few reviews equal a broken heart. :(**

**Chapter Fourteen**

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"Tasha," I nodded at her. Her smile was friendly as always. "Why were you thinking about me?"

"I just wanted to talk, wondered what you thought about the class? Was my training okay? Give me a feedback." I sat down next to her, but I still felt a little uncomfortable. I didn't know why, but maybe I was just wary of girls pulling off the "friendly" with me.

Truthfully, the only times when girls were friendly with me outside were when they wanted to get in Yilmaz's pants. They always thought that befriending the little sister was the easiest and safest way to win a heart. The girls never made it one step toward Yilmaz though. They either ended up bruised or thinking how the Mazur clan could be so cold and cruel.

I answered as honestly as I could. "No offense, but your class sucks."

She raised a brow, a motion that I never had the ability to do. "Why?"

I gave her a droll look. "Because it makes me so tired I just want to die." She was about to say something when I cut her off. "I know, I know, it's always like that in the first time, but I have nothing against it. Its good training, and you're a damn good trainer, too."

The smile she gave me was warm and genuine. "Thank you." she said and tied her hair into a tight ponytail when it came lose. Her hair, I should admit, was very pretty. It was long, straight, and glossy as if she visited the hair salon every day.

"Damn hair, I never get any rest with this." she grumbled and gave it a rather fond pat.

"Why don't you cut it short?" I suggested, just making conversation.

Her look was appalled. "Oh, no, I would never cut it short…he…" To my surprise, Tasha blushed like a fifteen year-old virgin.

"He? You have a guy? Boyfriend?" I wasn't really interested in hearing this since I had no idea and experience when it came to relationships with the opposite sex.

If possible, Tasha blushed more. "Well…it's not really like that…"

I bit back my sigh of irritation. Love-struck girls…I'll never know why they behave so stupidly when it comes to love. There was a saying that said that love can make us stupid, but I don't know…in Tasha's case, it did the saying justice.

"Well, we are seeing each other." she said slowly and cautiously. The expression on her face changed a bit. "But…I don't really know if he feels the way I feel about him. For the record, I love him, but him loving me…I just don't know. He trusts me enough to hang out with him, and I like that but it's just not enough, you know?" she told me.

I nodded encouragingly. Poor girl, she's telling personal things to a person who had no care about it at all. Gosh, could I be colder? I tried to pay attention to Tasha and tried my best to look understanding and sympathetic. Don't get me wrong, I just wasn't the person to talk to when it came to these kinds of stuff.

"I want something more. Something big and full of love, but I don't really know if that's possible for us." Her face fell and tears brimmed on her ice blue eyes.

I gave her a pat on the hand. "There, there." What? Was that the best thing I could do? I swallowed. "Um, why do you think it's not possible for you two to be together?" There, that's it.

She wiped her tears, sniffed and gave a halfhearted laugh. "I think he's seeing someone else…or at least that's what I think."

I cocked my head and frowned. I really had nothing to say about this, and I definitely wasn't getting involved. Not that I was being selfish or something, but I just wasn't any help to any of these topics.

Tasha, seeing my clueless look, laughed and mock-punched me on my arm. "Don't worry; you don't have to say something about it. You did well when you listened to me mope. You're a good friend, Rose." And now we were friends? Things were just moving a little too fast. "I know you're not a therapist, and by God, I hope you never will be or your patients will end up killing themselves."

A smile crept up to my lips. "A backhanded insult, if ever there was one."

She laughed, the sound melodic. "No offense," she told me.

I smiled at her and laughed a little. Wow, I was getting closer to Tasha too. First, the angelic Lissa, and now her! What perfume do I wear that just draws in people? And what underwear have I not washed that some Academists hate me so much? Damn. I can never win, can I?

"None taken," I told her and shoved my hands inside my jacket's pocket. It was getting cold even though it was still two in the afternoon. "I have to go to class." I gestured to the nearest building.

"You're taking therapy?" she asked me, not losing her smile.

In fact, my next class was entitled "Therapy." I wondered what that was. Tasha said it like it was normal therapy, not Therapy with the capital T.

"That's the room?" I asked her and cast a doubtful glance at the small building. A class of thirty cannot fit in there, I thought.

"Yes. Now, go. I'll see you at Homeroom." She gave me a push toward the building but I locked myself in place.

"What's in Homeroom? Everyone keeps saying that's the most-loved class here."

Tasha gave me a sly smile. "You'll see."

**1410T hours**

**2:10 PM, Montana Mountain, Afternoon Light**

**Class: Therapy**

I looked doubtfully at the small building in front of me. I don't know, but the building was just too small to hold forty students, and it looked more like a clinic than a classroom where students train. The sign board on the building said:

_Dr. Deirdre Grey, Psy. D._

_St. Vladimir's Academy Clinical Psychologist_

_Clinic opens at: 8:30-11:30 AM & 1:30-6:00 PM_

The Academy had their own therapist? What the hell? Well, you can't really go out of the Academy and tell some human therapists that you needed counseling because you had powers beyond this world can explain. Whatever.

I shook my head in disbelief and strode toward the door. Before I could open or grab the doorknob, the door flung itself open, and out went a tall girl with green-streaked black hair. Her posture was determined as she shouted out loud: "Damn you, Moffat! My name is Odessa Alvarico, the beautiful and powerful dryad you'll never have again! And for God is my witness, I will never go hungry again!"

I backed away from her, noticing that she was nearly half a foot taller than me. The hands that were in my pockets were thrown in front of me, lest to be bumped on the rather large Odessa. She was plump, size fourteen, maybe, but very attractive. Her skin was the color of café au-lait that glimmered under the sun. Her face was heart-shaped, surrounded my billows of soft green-streaked black waves. The expression on her face was righteous and dignified, making her look like an Amazon warrior.

"O-kaay…"

She huffed and looked down at me with incredibly green eyes. "Oh, hi there! Did I hit you? No? Sorry if I did. By the way, I'm Odessa. I'm a dryad, if you didn't know." When she wasn't shouting, the woman, or girl (she didn't look much older than me), had a nice soothing voice. A doctor's voice. Nice. The fierce expression on her face was gone now, replaced with warmth and laughter.

"So I heard," I gave her a small smile.

Her sweet smile really didn't match her fierce beauty. Her face looked like it could carry on a heavy sneer, but would still look beautiful. "Sorry, I was just expressing myself. Doctor's orders."

I raised my brows. "Doctor?"

"Yes, a doctor. Doc Deirdre Grey, our therapist. She's the best one I had so far."

"Wait—just how many therapists are here in the Academy?" I asked almost suspiciously.

"There are at least five, including the guidance counselor, but Deirdre is the best one here."

"Oh," was my brilliant response.

The crackle of what sounded like a megaphone startled me, but not Odessa. She merely smiled at me, and waved, calling "See you in Homeroom!" as she bounded away to the woods.

Okay, that had me by the ends of my wits. What was up with Homeroom? Before I could fathom further, my name was called through the unseen megaphone.

"Rosemarie Hathaway, you can get in now. The doctor is waiting for you."

Great, the therapist had her own secretary.

"**Are you Rosemarie Hathaway?" was the first words the therapist asked me.**

"Yes, it's me." I said and stood in the room, scanning the place. It wasn't overly-decorated, unlike Kirova's office, but it wasn't plain either. It was actually nice, conveying a serene vibe that was common in clinics. She had nature pictures and butterflies that were supposed to be soothing. I only found them exceedingly girlie and a little annoying.

The woman on the chair behind a glass-topped table didn't look as old as me, but she had certificates to prove that she had different sorts of awards in the name of counseling and other things that I couldn't understand.

Deirdre nodded, her blond hair not falling from her chignon. "Would you care to sit down?" She pointed at the chair in front of her desk.

I sat down and tried my best to look like a cooperative patient whose capabilities of listening and taking the therapist's words at heart far exceeds the best acquiescent.

"How do you find the Academy, Rosemarie?" she asked me in her doctor's voice.

"Call me Rose. And the Academy's…" What could I say? Great? That would be a lie. Terrible? Partly a lie. "…okay. It's fine."

Deirdre raised a brow. It seemed like I was the only one who couldn't do that. "Don't you find the Academy a little eccentric?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do, but after all, I am 'a little eccentric' myself, too." I answered her.

"Why do you say you're eccentric?"

I gave her my WTF look. "Because I can manifest electricity by my will. That's a little more than eccentric, I think."

"Why do I hear something like dislike in your tone when you speak of your powers?" she asked me, her expression still professional and cool. Deadpan, I think you call it.

"Maybe because it ruined my life?" It came out as a question.

"Why do you think it ruined you life?"

I thought about that one. I wasn't one to say that the powers ruined my life—Lissa's had been worse.

"Hmmm…" I thought about it more.

"You don't have the answer?" asked Deirdre.

"Not really." I admitted and shifted in my seat.

"What did you lose when the powers came to you?"

I noticed the way she said _the powers_ and not _your_ powers. "I lost my mother's bracelet. It was pretty special to me since it was the only thing I had from her. She died when I was still a baby."

"I'm sorry about that. Is there anything else you lost?"

"My hair," Instinctively, I reached out to my thick shoulder-length waves. "I was bald for two months before my hair started growing again. I loved my hair." I continued.

"Is it right that I am sensing more things you want to tell me?"

In fact, she was right. "My brother—_half_-brother." I told her.

"What about him?" she asked patiently, her voice quiet. The only sounds in the room were the air-condition and the pen scribbling on Deirdre's pad.

I bit my lip, reluctant to tell her. "He was never the same after the accident." It had been a long time that I stayed in denial. I never knew that Yilmaz could be that affected by that single failure of mine. If only I had followed his orders…Wait—what? Now I felt sorry for that rat bastard? I'm blaming myself for his insanity? No way, this was _not_ me. I don't do guilty and sympathetic. Well, sometimes, but not when it came to Yilmaz. He brought that insanity to himself, not me.

"Why do you say that?" Again with the twenty questions. I was getting annoyed.

"He turned loco because I failed him…"

"You failed him in what?"

"On that mission he assigned to me. Drove him nuts that the rogues—" I stopped myself before I could say anything else. That was close—so, so close to revealing myself.

"What of the rogues?" Deirdre's voice was politely curious.

"Nothing." I said and looked for a change of topic.

"Rose, anything you say and discuss in this room stays in this room. I assure you, confidentiality is a thing I take very seriously." Deirdre folded her hands in front of the table to show me she was serious.

Should I tell her? Should I tell her that I was a Mazur? A Mazur whose father was the famed Ibrahim the Conqueror (believe me, I know the title sounds corny, but that's what they named him)? The answer was automatic—no, I would not tell anybody about my lineage. They didn't have to know.

"I just think this _thing_—these powers—they're a curse literally sent from above. Many have told me that they're the gift from the gods, but," I emphasized my disbelief by shaking my head. "there are no gods. There's only one god that I believe in and He uses a capital G on his god and capital Hs on the pronouns." I didn't mean to sound overly religious, but indignation did that to me.

"Why do you think it's a bane and not a boon?"

I searched for my mental dictionary for the meaning of the words. Hey! I was born in Turkey, and I have only been in America for the last four or so years—give me a little credit, would ya? "Why do you think I do?" I asked her rhetorically. "These powers give me nothing but burden. I can't even use them without keeling over in a dead-faint. If these so-called _gods_ are giving me these damn powers, they should make it a least bit easy for me. If they're just there watching and laughing at me because I faint every time I use their 'blessing', they have one helluva sense of humor."

"Why do you think that the gods are playing with you?"

"What other reason would there be? I've read enough stories to know their self-serving nature. They only live for their amusement and I'm just their clueless pawn."

"Now are you saying that your powers are from the gods?" asked Deirdre. The question caught me a little off-guard.

"No! I'm just saying that hypothetically." I argued, but arguing with Deirdre was a lost cause.

"How do you feel about being a pawn?"

I realized what Deirdre was pointing out now. "I hate being a pawn."

"Then stop being a pawn. Stop being a pawn to your powers. Your powers don't rule you, you rule yourself."

My scars chose that moment to prick me. I errantly rubbed them. Deirdre had a point—a big one at that, since I never thought about conquering my powers before. Before this moment, I realized that I had been a slave to my own powers—giving in to them and not fighting them like I always fought my personal demons.

I stood up quickly, suddenly elated that I had answers. But was I strong enough to control my powers? I didn't know the answer, but I knew I had the capabilities to.

"Thanks, Deirdre. You just made my day."

"What things usually make your day?"

"Are we back to that again? Donuts, of course. Food." I said with a roll of my eyes, and then stopped. "Ass-kicking makes my day." I gave her a suspicious look. "Vengeance makes me happier."

Deirdre stayed quiet. When I was at the door, she cocked one brow up again and asked, "Are you sure?"

For a fact, I didn't know whether vengeance made me feel happy or not.

When I got out of the clinic, it was raining.

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**So, how was it? Love it? Hate it? Either way, you should review.**

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**K8**


	16. Chapter 15

**I have news! My friends are making manga out of my story (WLS), but I'm changing their names and some of their features—I might be accused of copyright infringement. I'm happy—elated even, but that's just me being hopeful. I hope they're going to finish it.**

**Please enjoy the chapter. :)  
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**Chapter Fifteen**

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**1448T hours**

**2:48 PM, Montana Mountain, Storm Clouds**

**Class: [Off to] Armageddon**

**I ran into Dimitri and Adrian when I was on my way to my next class named "Armageddon." **It looked like they were having a serious life-changing discussion with the expressions they had on their faces. The expression alternated from grim, to shocked, to angry, and back to grim again. Adrian's hands did all the moving while Dimitri just stood there, hands on his sides, a strong palpable energy emanating from him.

It was déjà vu.

"Well," I said, directing it at Dimitri. I crossed my hands on my chest and leaned back against a pole. They looked at me, surprised. "If I didn't know better I thought you, Dimitri, are having an intelligent conversation with Adrian." I told him and turned to Adrian. "Never knew you could be that deep." I added to Adrian.

Adrian was the first to reply. "Don't you think I can be good-looking and smart at the same time, Little Flower?" His smile could have melted my panties right off of me if I wasn't interested in another man. _Or_ if I was interested at all.

And didn't I just threaten to instigate his secret orgy with the liches if he ever called me Little Flower in public?

"Oh, yeah?" I taunted, and circled him, putting on a skeptical face while I scrutinized him from head to toe. I stopped on my tracks and looked at his very nice derriere. "You have the most delicious-looking rump in the whole Academy."

Adrian put on a very happy, very smug look. "Don't I know it? Wait until you see me naked, you'll be—"

"Alright, you can stop now. I can feel bile rising up my throat." I elaborated by gagging.

Adrian gave me a mock confused look. "Women have begged me to come to their beds, my dear Little Flower, but you bruise my ego. You treat me like I'm some kind of leper." He put an offended hand to his chest.

I rolled my eyes. "Not a leper, but it's because of the crowd you hang out with. They stink like garbage trucks. You should really think about advising them to wear cologne or something."

"You know, Rose, if you'd just give me a chance, I can make your most erot—"

"Adrian, please, stop talking." My voice was choked because I was torn between coughing and laughing. The guy just didn't know where to stop.

"Give me a good reason why I should. I have a mouth, you know, and talking is not a talent everyone really appreciates—like your friend over there." He pointed somewhere behind my back. Kendall went by with her perpetually sulky expression. When she saw Adrian pointing at her, she slouched, pulled up the hood of her hoodie, and sauntered away, an annoyed look set on her face. "It's an insult to not use gifts given to you."

Again with the gift. "What gift are you talking about?"

"The talking of course. You know, talking is one of my many charms."

I waved off his soon-to-come speech about his charms.

"Why do you find me so 'not your style', Little Flower? Many women find my charms irresistible."

"You ask me why? It's because you're a self-serving bastard with completely no inhibition." The answer was an honest one, and I didn't regret saying it. I was just felt a little bad for bursting Adrian's bubble. But then, the bastard deserved it.

"Ouch," it was Dimitri's turn to talk. A small, rusty smile came to light his face up. It was an awkward smile as if he hadn't smiled around much. From the looks of his face and his anti-social nature, it was clear that he didn't do that a lot. Dimitri turned to send Adrian a long look that I didn't understand. He said something in a language I couldn't understand—the same language they spoke when I was at Adrian's other stupid temple.

Apparently, Dimitri's words shocked Adrian because the look he had on was priceless. His unnaturally bright green eyes were wide open, and his mouth hung ajar. He stuttered back an answer to Dimitri in English. "What did you just say?"

Dimitri allowed himself another rusty laugh and shook his head. "Nothing."

"Before I interrupted, you two looked like you were discussing battle strategy. Is there a war coming?" I asked.

Both their faces were guarded but nothing could mistake the quick passage of something like apprehension on their faces.

"No, just discussing Vessel matters." Dimitri answered and looked at the sky. It was still drizzling and the wind was moderately strong, sending in a frigid breeze toward our direction.

I clutched my coat to me and draped my hair to my face to cover most of the cold.

"You should go to your class. It's cold out, and you may get sick." Dimitri said, something suspiciously like concern lacing his tone. I wanted to raise a brow, but I knew that I couldn't.

Dimitri gave me a light push toward the direction of where my class was. "You don't get sick?"

Dimitri's lips tugged at the sides. "No, Rose, we don't get sick. Now, you need to go. What's your class?"

"That's cool. I wish I never get sick too. I'm about to go to Armageddon. Can you tell me where it is?"

The look on Dimitri's face changed. From blank, it became something wonderful; the full-fledged smile that crossed his face was a sight to behold. "Armageddon, huh. You're going to love that class."

Before I could get my answer where the class was, he and Adrian walked away, pulling up their hoods. I watched as their tall masculine forms got farther and into the woods where I now know that led to the place where their temples stood.

I sighed, the sound nearly wistful, and put my hands inside my pockets to try warming myself. I started walking to the direction that led to nowhere, actually. I didn't know, but it seemed like a suiting place to find peace and quiet. It was still minutes before my next class starts, so I decided to kill some time thinking about things. Things that were mentioned at Therapy.

First, I knew that I was being a pawn to my powers, that was why I fainted every time I used too much of them. And second, Yilmaz…oh, dear Lord, what do I need to do for him? Volunteer to nurse him until he gets his sanity back? I don't think so. That fact has been bugging me ever since his first tantrum—a tantrum where he nearly killed his own half-sister…

Maybe it really was my fault that he turned loco and—"Oof! Fuck! Get off of me you creepy hairy son of a—AARGH!—bitch!" The SOB part was politically correct, since an overly big and dark wolf was on top of me, growling like a crazy animal it was. It looked at me with dark, vengeful eyes that looked way too intelligent to be human. Oh, great, I just got down and dirty with a freakin' werewolf! Crap.

I growled back at the stupid werewolf and shoved it off of me. It didn't budge but it continued to glare and growl at me. I could feel the rain and mud seeping in my clothes now. Great, so much for keeping my stonewashed jeans clean. My hair went flying toward my face as a violent gust of wind came our way. I shivered and continued shoving the dog away from me. Fucking animals, I never knew why I wanted a pony for my tenth birthday.

"Whoa! Freddie—Fredmar! Stop, stop! Gosh, you're so hot, it's not time yet! We still have a couple of minutes! Let her go, man."

The guy, or rather, a man who said those words looked unbelievably big. Broad shoulder, bulging biceps, and thighs the size of a tree's trunk, hulked towards me and the wolf's entwined forms. Ew, okay, that just sounded so wrong, but…okay, I can't explain it, but that's just that, our forms were entwined.

Fredmar? The name sounded familiar, but I couldn't put a finger on him yet. Maybe I met him before.

Luckily, the wolf stopped growling and got off of me. I kicked its wolfy face hard, just releasing my anger, and bared my teeth at him, growling myself too. It bore its sharp canine teeth at me like a rabid dog and made biting motions. I gave him the bird and stood up, wiping unsuccessfully the mud off of my well-loved jeans. I sighed. Maybe it was time to let these jeans go…Whatever.

"Thanks," I told The Hulk.

He smiled at me, revealing two dimples on his cheeks. Okay, that just messed with his overly masculine body. His face was a total baby's. "No problem. You must be…Hardaway? That it?" The man was cute, if not for the steroid-pumped form. Well, I'm not saying he does steroids, but he sure looked like one who had. He had curly black hair and dark almond-shaped eyes that indicated Asian lineage, probably Japanese. His skin looked like it was colored like mine, but his were now deeply tanned, unlike mine which only had a slight tan to it. (Some still teased me about getting a tan, but I loved my skin just the way it was. Again, my vanity…) He was very tall, but not as tall as Dimitri, but he was more like Adrian's height—six-two to six-four.

He caught me staring and waved a big hand in front of my face. "Hello, anybody there?"

"Actually, it's Hathaway, not Hardaway." It was the first time I have encountered an Academist who had my last name wrong.

He smiled again, now rueful. "Sorry." The guy was sweet in spite of his size. "I'm Jean Moffat."

Moffat, now that name I knew of. "You know Odessa?"

His eyes lit up. "Yeah. She's—she _was_ my girlfriend."

"Uh-huh."

"Ahem!"

We looked at the person who just made a noise, and I swear my eyes burned at the sight of _him_ with no clothing. That _him_ was the handsome guy I met at The Dread. The guy who was so mean to the catty girl named Ara. I looked away immediately and caught a sight of a lynx slinking in sight. It pawed its way toward us and as soon as it caught sight of the naked guy behind us, it hissed—the sound more like an old woman's grunts than a feline hiss—and bared its teeth at Fredmar.

"Ara, looking nice today." said Fredmar behind me.

Oh, now I got it. Ara was a lynx—a cat—and Fredmar was a werewolf—a dog—so that was why they didn't get along. Alright, one mystery solved another thousand more to go.

If the lynx had a longer tail, it would have rose and bristled. Ara the lynx looked up at Moffat and said something in lynx language. The lynx's sounds sounded like a mixture of a dog's bark and a cat's meow.

Moffat gave the lynx a small smile, nodded the lynx off, and looked at me. "You have five minutes. Follow Ara and she'll show you the way to the changing room."

My eyes widened. "I'm changing into an animal form?" I asked, horrified.

Moffat and Fredmar laughed, and I swear the lynx snickered. "No, Hathaway. You're changing into other clothes."

I sighed in relief. "Thank God. I never liked animals, and I'm sure as hell never turning into one."

Ara the lynx lead me to a changing room that looked like it belonged to a gym rather than a battle ground in an Academy. Ara pointed its big paw at something and left the room, leaving me all alone. I quickly changed into the clothes Ara pointed. It was a rather too revealing clothing to wear in a weather like this, but I have endured much worse. The clothes consisted of dark brown leggings, a brown leather skirt that were in strips, a cool breast-supporter that was a size smaller, and a bustier that just all but revealed my ample boobs. The final touches were golden knee pads, elbow pads, a breastplate with intricate designs and wicked moccasin boots. I looked like a warrior princess in a cheap suit.

I tamed my wild dark tresses in front of the mirror and licked my chapped lips. From the cold, my skin, the color of an inside of an almond, paled and I rubbed my arms to keep them warm, but to no avail. I went out of the room and searched the place for Ara after I got a small dagger from a full set of them. Ara pawed out of nowhere, pushing a gold-colored shield toward me. It left with a small wave of her big paw, and swaggered off. Yes, Ara the lynx swaggered.

I got the shield from the ground and weighed it with one hand. It was heavy and it looked definitely old. I searched the place for anyone or anything, but the only things that I could see were the trees and some tips of the buildings of the Academy.

Suddenly, I heard a battle cry, and then screams and cries and every annoying sound sounded, raising my hackles. Loud sounds, I can handle a little. But very loud sounds, no way. I looked for the source and saw groups of warriors swarming toward me in both directions where the woods were clear. I looked at their uniform, hoping to see one of my group mates, but there were none. The group on the left had blue uniforms, and red at the right. I looked down at myself—I wore gold. Crap.

With another cry from each leader of the group, they started running towards me, the red nearer. I threw my shield at them, hoping it hit their leader, and ran for my life. I climbed up one tree like a monkey and nearly fell when a branch broke. Luckily, I held on to a vine. I swung myself on the vine onto the next tree so that the warriors wouldn't get me. So…this was Armageddon? So far, this was my favorite class. I wonder what Homeroom had in store since it was two hours and started at night.

On my third tree, there were no more vines, but a clear space. Two warriors saw me when I dropped not so quietly to the ground. They fast approached me, their swords raised to fight me, but I only had a dagger. With one dagger, I threw one to the warrior's thigh and he dropped to the ground, groaning. Gosh, was everything this true? Did Academists have to die because of some class? When I thought about going to the warrior I just stabbed by instinct and help him, a girl with jet-black hair came to pour some kind of liquid goo to his wounds. The warriors did not disturb her as she did.

Before I could watch more of the show, I was tackled down by the other warrior. He took advantage of my distraction by tackling me down. He nearly stabbed me square on my stomach if I wouldn't have sucker-punched his well-hid face and grabbed his hair from the back of his helmet. His hair was long, silky straight and black. Recognition flared in me.

The warrior stood up while I crouched. He took off his helmet, and showed me that the warrior wasn't a he, but a she.

"Tasha, I should say nice to meet you, but that would be a lie." I gave her a flitting smile before round-kicking her to her face.

She stumbled side-wards, taken aback by my attack. Apparently, I hit her hard on her cheek because when she smiled, there was blood on her mouth. She spat before speaking. "Rose, I didn't know you had Armageddon. Should have warned me." She smiled back and attempted to tackle me again. I moved away from her sloppy move and kicked her side, making her stumble again. I can't believe that Tasha was so easy to fight fist-to-fist with. Maybe, again, she was taking it easy on me.

She stood immediately from her position on the ground, and, taking me by surprise, tackled me again, now with more speed and force. She hit me like a truck, and I went sailing back, my back painfully hitting on a tree. Something hard hit me on the head and I could feel a tell-tale warming of my head. I was bleeding but I didn't care. My adrenaline was too high up for me to even bother about that. My scars itched, and my powers demanded to be used, but no matter how tempting, I didn't.

Tasha didn't waste any time as she took her sword and nearly gutted me to the tree. Whoa, was she really going to do that?

I shoved myself away from the trunk and looked at Tasha questioningly. "Were you really going to kill me?"

Tasha rolled her eyes and slashed herself on her arm. Blood gushed and as soon as it appeared, it healed. "Healing metal. It can't really kill us." With that, she swung her sword toward me and I rolled out of her way. Whoa, I had dreamt about fighting with girls, but not like this. I was so out of options. She had a weapon and I didn't. Now what?

"Don't you think it's unfair? You have a weapon and I don't. Let's be fair. Spar with me." And an idea popped into my head. "Or use your powers—just don't use a weapon."

Tasha laughed. "I never thought of you being a whiner, Rose. Whatever, sure." Tasha tossed her sword away and manifested fire between her hands. "Now this is what I call Armageddon."

She could say that again. I jumped away as she threw a fireball at me, barely missing a tree before disappearing in thin air. I crouched on where I was and monitored her every move. Okay, it was a bad idea making her use her power since I had nothing compared to hers. What would I do? Electrify her? That would hardly do anything but shock her…wait—shock? Okay, I did not want to use my powers, but another way to shock was…

"Hey, Tasha, what do you call a girl who plays with fire?" I asked, and she looked at me curiously. I felt guilty for what I was about to do, but I had no more reasonable options.

Tasha shrugged. "I don't know. What's the answer?"

With her distraction, I tossed dirt in front of her face to her eyes. She let out a scream and fell to the ground while she frantically rubbed her eyes. I tied her to a tree while she was distracted with her eyes. There.

Before I could leave her, I called, "I don't know the answer, but you sure are one hell of a fighter. You fight well and you play with fire. Good job, Tasha." I didn't know why I said that, but it just came out of my mouth involuntarily.

I ran to my station and told the coach I won a fight. Apparently, my team had won too and they were only waiting for me. Darn.

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**So, what do you think? What were the Vessels talking about again? What do you think will happen next chapter? I'll update soon. :)**

**xOxO,**

**K8**


	17. Chapter 16

**I had a pretty interesting week. My social studies teacher failed me in her class because I was being a smartass. I wasn't able to write a chapter for the last two weeks. I have life issues. I have a love pentagon to fix. I have a heart to mend. And I'm sick. Sore throat+cough+fever ain't a good combination.**

**Make me feel better by reviewing long reviews.  
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**Chapter Sixteen**

**1623T hours**

**4:23 PM, Infirmary, St. Vladimir's Academy**

I squirmed in my seat as Lissa poured some dark liquid onto a cotton ball. The container of the liquid said _Betadine Antiseptic _Solution. That didn't sound good. Apprehension dawned on me as she strode toward me with a set look on her face, the cotton balls on the tweezers. I quickly jumped out of the cot she made me sit on and tossed the cloth that was pressed against my forehead.

"I feel very fine now. I guess I need to go, don't want to make other sick kids waiting." I turned away from her and nearly ran out the door.

Lissa mumbled something unintelligible and called after me. When I was at the door, looking back at Lissa while calling out, "Don't want to waste your time, honey! You have more important patients to heal!" I bumped on a very hard, very warm body. I looked up, and up and up at the person I had bumped into since the guy was as tall as an effing tree. There I saw warm brown eyes looking at me, a look something like concern mixed with chastisement masking his face.

"Dimitri," I said and crossed my hands across my chest, trying to look defiant with my Armageddon uniform and battered and bloody body. "Didn't expect your mighty presence in a place like this. I thought these places were off your league."

His lips tightened like he was hiding a smile. "Rose, you mistake me for a self-indulgent person. Trust me, I do this all the time." His tone was somewhat amused in an offended sort of way.

"What do you do all the time?" I asked him and walked backwards when he stepped in front of me. I continued walking backwards when he inched in front of me again until I was back on my cot again. I gave the cot a rather annoyed look and glared at Dimitri.

Dimitri's expression changed into a scary blank look that had me squirming again. "By my rights, I am here to sustain trouble. And you," Dimitri pointed at me, his look still scary as hell. "are trouble. I think we have to restrain her, right Miss Dragomir?" He asked Lissa. Lissa, who was standing there all wide-eyed and pale, didn't react. I couldn't blame her; Dimitri was scary enough when he was a foot taller than us, and two times wider, but with that look on his face, I felt like a five year-old again, being told the story of Hannibal Lecter eating people's livers and brains. Ack.

With the look on Dimitri's face, I should have known that he had an evil streak on him. I had been too assured that we were already best of buddies and that he was going to keep me out of trouble as much as possible, and not this…This must be someone's morbid idea of a joke.

I was about to say something like an apology when Dimitri's lips tightened and lifted into a brilliant smile. His laughter, rusty as always, echoed around the infirmary. I hadn't noticed that a crowd had gathered around to see my misfortune with a Vessel, but as soon as Dimitri laughed, they inhaled deeply, having been holding their breaths for far too long.

Angrily, I smacked Dimitri's arm. "You hole in the ass! You scared me half to death!" With another punch on his arm, I made my way out of the infirmary, but I was barely at the door when Dimitri caught my arm, tugging me toward him. With his strength, I wasn't able to play tug of war with him with my arm as the make-shift rope. I only managed a halfhearted "Let me go!" before I was pulled against his chest.

This might seem romantic if the situation wasn't so ridiculous.

Dimitri sighed and put a lock of my hair behind my ear. My heart did an odd somersault as he did that. I mean—come on!—who wouldn't find that movement knee-weakening considering the guy who just did that was inexperienced when it came to getting all soft and cuddly? Apparently, everybody did. Some released impulsive "aahs" while some cleared their throats and zeroed their gazes on us, nearly as starry-eyed as me.

Wait…starry-eyed? I don't do starry-eyed, and I was absolutely not going all gaga over Dimitri. I pushed myself away from him but his grip only tightened. I punched his chest and grabbed his shirt (yes, he was wearing normal clothes for a change), pulling him toward me. I made my meanest eyes at him. "If you don't let me go right this second, I swear to you that I'm going to shock you with everything I have, and I don't care about the consequences." Okay, that was a lie, but what could one little lie do? I wanted out, out, and out of his arms because he made me look—and think— like a freakin' doll with absolutely no life.

The expression on Dimitri's face told me that he was curious. Very. He looked like he was studying a creature that he hadn't known existed. Intrigued. It was weird, but my heart still fluttered like butterfly wings. Damn heart, if you weren't so important, I'd stab you.

"Let me heal you, Rose." he said in a me-Tarzan-you-Jane kind of way.

"What do you want to heal me for? It's just a small cut." I told him, a little unnerved that I wasn't bothering to push him away for getting a little too close to my personal space.

With my words, he shut himself down and turned back to the professional I-am-your-Vessel-and-you-will-do-whatever-I-tell-you-to Dimitri. He pointed back at my cot. "Sit."

With one word, I complied, but there was no mistaking that my heart sunk when his demeanor changed. I let him fuss over me and I cooperated, trying hard not to squirm again as he put on a bandage on the spot near my hairline. I sighed in relief when he was done, and couldn't help but feel a little—I dunno—empty when he left the room to let Lissa do her thing.

The last thing he said before going was, "Give it an hour before you heal it, Miss Dragomir. Won't want the wound to close so soon after it has been cleaned."

There, the Vessel left, leaving me with weird stares the Academists kept sending me.

I sighed and prayed to God to let this day end quickly.

**1948T hours; Hours after sundown**

**7:48 PM, Elemental Fey Territory, St. Vladimir's Academy**

"Haven't you heard of curfew? We're going to get in trouble!" I hissed at Lissa.

I know, right. Rose Hathaway reminding a goody-two-shoe about curfew (of all things it had to be that!). And yes, I know, trouble is my middle name, but not like this—not in _bikinis_. It was a rather embarrassing choice of clothing to be in if we were going to get caught trespassing Elemental Fey Territory and breaking curfew.

"We won't," Lissa assured me.

"Famous last words." I mumbled and kept walking beside her.

The trees that surrounded us moved with the wind. Gosh, it was cold. Glad that I remembered to put on a coat before leaving the cabin in crappy bikinis that showed a very large amount of flesh. From behind me, a branch cracked. I looked back, alert, and scanned the area for possible intruders, but who I saw there wasn't someone I was expecting.

Kristin came bounding out of a tree with that perpetual smile on her face. "Hey Lissa, hey Rosie!" she greeted with a big wave and came up to us. She was a good two inches taller than my recently-acquired five-seven of a height. "Y'all goin'a Homeroom?"

I looked at Kristin questioningly. "Homeroom?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, Homeroom. It's awesome 'cause you get to hang out with all Academists and do whateva you like."

"Um, not really whatever, Kris. There _are_ some rules." Lissa intervened.

For the first time, I was a little glad that there were rules. It wasn't like I wanted kids with superpowers to go amok in the whole Academy. For all I know, they could burn down the whole Academy if they were allowed to do "whatever they liked."

"So, this is what you call Homeroom. Sounds cool." I said with only little enthusiasm. Okay, scratch that, _no _enthusiasm at all. I didn't know what things could bore me more. Things that could excite me were still unknown. I know, I was frigid and heartless and I didn't deserve to live in this world. I was the most boring person on Earth period.

"Yes! It's absolutely, mind-blowingly stunning, the class." Kristin announced and did a small dance to indicate her excitement. As she did that, she nearly collided with a kid. A kid with a suspiciously big head and freckles sprayed across the bridge of his nose. It was Liam.

"Ohmigod! Liam! I am so sorry, I wasn't looking!" Kristin apologized, holding the kid up while she blushed furiously.

Liam, a rather cute kid in his thirteens with freckles and dimples, smiled at her shyly. He adjusted his eyeglasses until it wasn't so askance on his face. "It's fine. Don't worry." he told her and patted her hand that was on him.

Kristin, getting the unsaid request, retrieved her hands immediately with a sheepish grin. Her blush turned darker and her eyes sparkled like stars as she looked at Liam. "I know that you must think that I'm one stuck-up blonde with absolutely no care in the world, and I don't blame you."

The kid's brown eyes widened in surprise. He quickly shook his head, letting his curly brown hair fall into his forehead. "No, no. I don't think you're stuck-up." He said "stuck-up" like it was a foreign word, which—for him—it was.

Kristin visibly brightened at that. Lissa looked interested in the conversation and I, too, found myself drawn at the conversation.

What Liam said next, though, rendered Kristin silent in confusion.

"Although I think you are suffering from a first-stage complexity that has given you the disability to see other people in a different light." Liam said it so pleasantly that I instantly became suspicious that there was more than meets the eye between these two.

Kristin just stood there, her face lining with confusion while Lissa and I relentlessly looked back and forth at Liam and Kristin. What was up with these two? I knew that Kristin liked the kid in a way that could be considered as romantic, but Liam reciprocating but not wanting the relationship? No way. I don't think nobody could refuse Kristin. Or that kind of a smart kid could be so dumb.

But then again, I wasn't the sharpest tool in the box. I couldn't know everything, right?

Liam caught sight of us and he blushed and looked down. "I guess I should go." Without any other word, he went walking away and towards the cabins.

Kristin looked at Liam walking away, a frown creasing her beautiful features as if thinking deeply.

"Hey guys! Homeroom's about to start. Elementals are throwing one hell of a party. Up to two hours only as usual, so stop wasting effing time and follow me!"

The voice that had called us was familiar with its friendly doctor-ish lilt. We looked at Odessa bouncing in front of us. She waved at us and motioned us to follow her. Without any protest, we did.

To my complete and utter surprise, there was music, the title being "T-Shirt." Not Shontelle's old original studio version, but the Latin remix. It was a really good remix even though it was a song created almost fifty years ago. We made our way across the crowd of Academists. Mostly were wearing beach shorts and shirts despite the cold weather. There was a "Jacuzzi" on the place that looked almost like it was a crater filled with water.

Kristin somehow extricated herself from me and Lissa because she was nowhere to be found now. I looked around and, to my disbelief, saw that the Academists were actually partying. Yes, the actual party where some kids got drunk, or some got lucky enough to get laid.

I shuddered and before I could clutch my coat tighter to me, Lissa had pulled it off of me without any effort. And there, everybody—who had been stealing glances at me—gawked at me like I was the biggest joke of their day.

I felt my heart drop and the blood from my face escaped. Everybody was looking at me with weird expressions on their faces, and then just like that, all their faces went into a blur, making my tears known. I was embarrassed. Too embarrassed to even analyze what was happening. There was only one thing and one thing only that screamed in my mind. It was to hide.

Somehow, when I heard a laugh, I began covering myself…and then more laughs came and I stepped away from them and into the trees. I ran away from the sound of laughter as fast as I could. I faintly heard somebody calling my name but I didn't pay it any attention. I was so, so humiliated about my body—myself—of what I have become. The ugly girl. Just years ago, I would have bragged endlessly about my appeal to opposite sex, but now, I only found myself humiliated and even disgusted at the thought of myself…my body…God, what am I saying?

Ever since I was marked by that lightning, my body had been full of scars except for my face. I thanked God for that small mercy although I couldn't say the same thing about the rest of me. These parts were just as important. But then…I hadn't been too interested in being unscarred before now. I didn't know why this sudden change of heart of mine occurred.

As I kept running, blinking back tears of humiliation, I bumped into somebody not too gently that sent us sprawling on the ground.

I gasped—yes, even I gasp—and the remaining blood that had been circulating on my face went away. The one I had bumped into had a slightly annoyed and bemused look on his gorgeous features. Strays of his brown hair played about his face and he quickly tucked them behind his ears.

As quickly as I had collided into him, I stood up and apologized profusely, trying to sound cool but my voice was still shaky and breathless from my earlier marathon. There was a rather hysteric note to my voice too. "I am so sorry about that Dimitri. I was running and I didn't see you coming 'cause I swear if I did, I would have stopped."

Dimitri gave me a small fleeting smile as he straightened himself up. "Don't worry. It's my fault anyway. I transported here from the Temple so you shouldn't have seen me coming." He told me, his voice formal and friendly. His expression, guarded but unusually warm, took on a vaguely concerned cast when he looked at my face.

"You've been crying?" he asked me, and his hand twitched as if he wanted to touch me but thought of it better.

I let out a humorless small laugh and leaned back on a tree, hugging myself self-consciously. "You could say that," I wasn't very glad in admitting that, but it was useless lying.

He stepped in front of me and offered me his leather cowboy duster. Another unexpected laugh erupted from my lips. Dimitri—a powerful man who had the powers of a god—wore a cowboy duster. It was so outlandish; I found it nearly funny if it wasn't so good on him.

I gladly took it from him. It was my first time to notice that I'd been shivering from the cold. After all, it was now November and the Montana Mountain cold was notorious.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" His words were unexpected, considering that we just fought the last time we saw each other.

I gave him a curious look. "Why do you wanna help me? Aren't I 'out of you league' or something?"

"Rose, Rose…" Dimitri shook his head, a small unused smile appearing on the harsh features on his face. He looked like a warrior who found his peace. Like Achilles finding his own peace. "How many times do I have to tell you that I am no self-indulgent person?"

I snorted. "As if I can take your words seriously." As soon as the words went out of my lips, I regretted it. I was a bit too confident with Dimitri that I didn't even consider that they were practically the most powerful and influential people in the Academy.

But, for the second time, Dimitri's answer took me by surprise. "I presume that you rarely believe in anyone at all."

A sour smile twisted on my lips. "You get bonus points for perception," I told him mildly and gave him a speculative glance. "You seem to know me so well. Is that a Vessel thing?" I asked him quietly.

For a moment, he was thoughtful. Finally, he answered, "No. I'm not sure. I can do many things, and—to an extent—I can also read people's minds, but not this way anyway. Maybe I'm just connecting with someone. I can barely remember the last time I had a normal conversation with someone…"

His statement took me off-guard. I had so many to ask, but one escaped my mouth. "How long have you been here anyway? You sound like you haven't talked to anyone for centuries. Your social skills suck."

He didn't answer, but just shrugged. "It's been a while," he said in a cryptic tone that made me very curious.

I decided not to push my luck and change the subject. "So, what's this Homeroom class? What do we do there?"

Dimitri looked up with a ghost of a smile on his lips. "It's not a class, but it's scheduled every night to let the Academists have a little fun while they still can. You don't know what the future holds."

Surprised, I stared at him. "That's cool," I said and noticed that I've been talking and unguarded with him, making my faint trace of an accent known.

"Yes. Now, why were you crying?"

So, Dimitri the notorious questioner was back.

Appearing nonchalant, I shrugged and tossed a glance over my shoulder and at the faint light of the bonfire at the Elemental's party. "I was embarrassed,"

For a fleeting second, a look of curiosity crossed his face but was completely gone as soon as it arrived. "I never pegged you to be the shy type," he noted.

I tightened my hold around his coat, the clean sharp scent of his aftershave somehow made me want to melt. I shuddered at that. "I'm not shy." I said indignantly and held my chin high. "I just don't want everyone to see my scars." It was hard to get the words out of my lips since I was _that_ proud.

Instantly—and taking me more surprised than before—his expression softened in a way that I hadn't seen before. "Didn't you know that scars are what make us?" he asked somewhat rhetorically.

I shook my head. "No, not really." I answered anyway.

A very small, almost unnoticeable, smile crossed his lips. He's been doing a lot of small smiles now—an improvement. "The scars define us, Rose. Didn't it ever cross your mind that if we didn't have scars, we'd be as strong as we were before? The scars remind of us of the battles we fought—the pain we've endured—yet, somehow, we still managed to survive. It makes us strong, builds up our courage."

I blinked at him. I got the feeling that I was in for another therapy now. "Yeah, but the only memories I get in these scars are bad ones—not the pseudo-warrior ones. I'm no narcissist."

He shook his head slowly. "That's not what I meant. You need no pride in strength, but you only need to have a positive mind. Think positive, be optimistic. You can't keep this feelings of self-hatred bottled up inside you."

And wait—how did he know about self-hatred? Yeah, sure, I praised myself all the time, but that was not the end of the rope. Deep down inside me, I always loathed myself for many things. Things like how lucky I was in the world by having one of the most powerful people in the world as a father, while other people suffered out there. Somehow, I always found a way to torment myself even when it wasn't my fault. I wondered how Dimitri saw that through me. I was barely aware of that part myself.

Instead of agreeing that he was absolutely right, I said the snarkiest thing that got first to my lips. "Are you practicing Zen life lessons, or are you this normally wise?" For short, a smartass. And I, too, was a smartass. I didn't find my joke funny.

With that, he totally closed off and stood up from his crouch on the ground. "You need to get back to Homeroom. Your friends are looking for you." He said gruffly.

"Rose? Rose! Where are you? Rose, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to pull your coat off you. Please, come back!" It was Lissa who called. A faint light of the torch she was carrying brought me to a visual awareness to my surroundings. I was in the Armageddon woods where Tasha and I fought. I remembered it perfectly well.

I looked back and saw Lissa and others not far from her calling for me too. "Hey, Lissa, right here!" I called and then turned to look back at Dimitri, wanting to tell him thank you for the advise, but he was nowhere to be found. I still had his coat though. I hugged it to me and mumbled to rudest thing about guys in Turkish.

"Rose! Shoot, I'm sorry." Lissa found me leaning against a tree. She looked distraught.

I smiled at her sincerely, my heart feeling almost afloat. I was happy. "It's fine, silly."

When we walked away, I noticed that I just said "silly." I have never said that word before now.

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**Hmm… Dimitri's making me suspicious. Even I don't know why he makes me feel that way. I should know, but I don't. Haha. And…how old is Dimitri, anyway? In this story? Too old? Old enough? Anyway, that's up for you to discover. Feeling very ill right now. Damn.**

**I'd give you hugs and kisses, but my sickness is contagious.**

**Katie (K8)**

**P.S. Review. =)**


	18. Chapter 17

**Hiya there, guys! Sorry for the very late update, but I just had the most terrible week. I lost my flash drive that contained my un-updated chapters of this fanfic, and I barely missed getting sent to the therapist for grief-counseling because of my loss—the flash drive that contained ALL of my stories (and eBooks, but my stories are more important). I mean ALL OF THEM. Finished, unfinished, on hiatus…everything. Oh well, this means I'm being challenged. And I thought and arch-enemy SS teacher was bad enough. And speaking of, she's still giving me the stink-eye every time I get near her.**

**Ellie's right. My SS teacher and me reminds me of Rose and Alto. Speaking of "when fiction becomes reality." LOL!  
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**Well, 'nuff about me. How was your week? Hope it was good. I hope yours didn't turn out like mine, too. That would've been awful. Bad Karma, it's called. Anyway, off to the chapter. Please enjoy it. I hope I can write faster this time so I can update. Our final exams are coming, and then HELLO VACATION for me.**

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**Chapter Seventeen**

**2006T hours; Young Night**

**8:06 PM, Elemental Fey Territory, St. Vladimir's Academy**

"You can say whatever you like but I'll still know what you're up to."

I looked up curiously at the normal-looking kid in front of me. She looked as normal as one can be, almost plain, but the spark in her eyes told me that what she had outside was as knowing as she looked normal. Her eyes showed me that mad scientist look I got from…well, my tutors before, but it was a lot more pronounced. Creepy.

"Excuse me?" I asked her.

"You starin' at me like I'm some kind of freak? I am and you should be afraid." She told me in a clipped tone, a faint hint of hysteria making itself known.

My eyebrows rose questioningly. "Everybody's like you here."

"No. They're not like me. I'm different. Flawed. I'm a freak. You're a freak. In the near future, you'll be much more. I don't know what'll happen but it will be unexpected. The whole Academy will be affected by the decisions you will make."

Her words brought on a new array of thoughts, but I whisked them away as soon as I had that feeling that I will never solve this one.

I hadn't noticed that Lissa was standing beside the girl who spoke gibberish. "Glenda," Lissa said pleasantly and put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Do you need anything?"

Glenda shook her head. "I don't need anything, Lissa, although I want to go back to my room before I get in trouble along with all of you." With that, the girl walked straight away from us and onto the direction opposite to the cabins.

Lissa turned to smile at me. "That was Glenda Birch. She's a little—" she paused to think of a word. "_different_ than us. What she said was the truth—that she is flawed, but not a freak. Never a freak." Lissa said and led me toward a group of cross-legged Academists. They encircled around a very big cactus and some were laughing so hard they had tears on their eyes.

"By different, what do you mean?" I asked Lissa curiously.

"She has Tourette's syndrome," she said quietly, sounding sad.

"The real Tourette's? Not the Zeklos-enduced irrationality?"

The sad look on her face confirmed my doubts. "Oh, that's…sad." I looked down, suddenly feeling sympathy welling up inside me. Normally, I would have said it was pity, but it wasn't. It was _sympathy_, plain and simple. "Why's she at the Academy?"

Lissa looked back at me. "You mean her powers, right?"

I nodded.

She sighed. "I knew that you'd ask, but the whole details aren't my secret to tell, Rose, I'm sorry, but nothing says that I can't give you any clue as to what it is."

I hated to ask this from her, but I was curious. Ugh, the curiosity really did kill the cat. "Try me," I challenged.

"She's…overly perceptive. You know…she can see things that can't be seen _now_." She nudged me with her elbow, doing a little "wink, hint, wink."

My eyes widened in understanding. So…the girl can see things that can't be seen now. Wow, an Alice Cullen in the Academy? A total cliché, almost too good to be true. "She could be faking it. You said she has Tourette's." I told Lissa and went to sit down the rest of the Academists that were surrounding the awfully big cactus.

Lissa pulled me up again by pulling hard on my arm. Jeez, physical abuse! "Ssshhh!" she shushed me and looked guiltily around. "Don't tell anyone I told you that. No, scratch that—don't tell anyone I told you anything. Tell them we were talking about something else. Like…how cactus juice is mighty fine!"

I raised a brow, but then remembered that I couldn't do it, raised both my brows. "Cactus juice? That sounds repugnant." Lissa, I mused, was pretty good at evading subjects.

She gave me a tight smile and pulled me down to sit on the ground with the Academists. On the middle of the circle, I barely noticed, was Odessa. She was pressing her hands on the ground so hard her hands ended up buried on the ground. Her head was bowed down so I couldn't see her face, but her voice—the doctorish voice—mumbled something in another language that sounded like Latin. It was some kind of incantation.

For what seemed like an eternity, I became restless and shot Lissa a questioning and annoyed look.

"What's this?" I asked her so impatiently I could have tapped my toes.

"Just wait and see." she told me, and then pointed back to the cactus. "Look."

I looked back and saw that Odessa had her face held up high to the sky as her incantations grew louder. She fell silent, and I swear I heard somebody fart. Or rather, the ground vibrated with a sound that was like a fart.

Odessa, with a smile, grabbed an unlabeled glass liquor bottle unscrewed a plastic cap on the cactus. WTF? I looked closer, curious, and was surprised to see pale red-gold liquid break out of the hole on the cactus. Odessa professionally caught the liquid with the empty bottle as if she had done that several times now. I suspected that they already did by the way the energy around me buzzed with excitement.

"That looks like tequila," I said out loud and reached for one shot glass. Lissa adeptly took it out of my hands and shot me a chiding look. She gave the glass to Odessa.

"What was that for?" I asked her, annoyed.

"We don't drink cactus juice without a game." she said and gathered closer.

"What game?"

It was Moffat—who was looking longingly at Odessa—who answered. "We're going to play 'I have never' in order to know ourselves better. Rose, as the new Academist, you have the honor to start the game."

"Okay…how do we play?"

Ten minutes later, I was god-awful drunk—and I meant that literally. I have never heard such a game as "I have never" and yet, it was so fun—drunkenly so. The "cactus juice" was apparently tequila straight up from the source—stronger and more potent than tequila from the bottle. I didn't really believe that tequila was actually from cacti but Odessa had confirmed my doubts, saying that science had diverted so much of the "ye olden times'" knowledge that our information were now muddled. And as the game went on, we got more and more drunk, making us say more things than we intended to.

After I was finished with my sixth shot, it was my turn to say something. "I have never tried to torture myself because of love." I raised my brows suggestively at Odessa, and then to Moffat.

They both drank and so did three other girls whom I knew of as "Jesse's Girls." They had been enthralled to Jesse ever since they first encountered him. Camille, who was a really tall girl who could rival the looks of Kristin, had been with Jesse for about three months, while Carly Badica and Anika Kurshonova had been with him for much longer.

I guess it wasn't a surprise for me that they drank though. They looked like awful masochists, the way they fought for Jesse's attention all at once but not getting any.

Lissa's turn. "I have never peed on a sink." Lissa admitted and then looked around, blushing. "Oh my God, I can't believe I just said that." she mumbled and everybody laughed.

A few guys chugged down tequila; one of them I noticed was Tasha's not-as-young-as-her nephew. I raised my brows and wondered what sink he peed on. The mental image made me shudder in revulsion.

It was Kristin's turn. "I have never fallen for a guy older or the same age as me. I'm a pedophile." We didn't have to mention to her that she already said that the last couple of times. Except for the pedophile bit, though. That was new.

I turned to see that it was a small girl named Mia's turn. She was an absolute replica of a short Barbie doll. Her hair, while not straight or curly, was golden with platinum highlights. Her eyes were the color of the sky and her skin was tanned.

Her words were a bit slurred when she spoke, but we understood. "I have never met and known the Vessels personally." she said and turned to me with a smile. She raised her glass while she said, "Cheers, Hathaway," but didn't drink.

With a shrug, I gulped down a shot and saw that someone familiar to me had drunk too. It wasn't Lissa because blond hair could never be mistaken as black. I looked at Tasha in surprise, and she raised the now-empty shot glass at me with a small smile. I never knew that she knew the Vessels personally. That made me feel irked, but I got over it immediately.

I turned to look at who was next, but as soon as my eyes connected to the red hair and electric blue eyes, I stiffened.

"I have never talked to my father except in line of duty." she said quietly and just sat there, back stiffly stick-straight and face stoic.

I thought about her statement and decided that it didn't hurt not to drink. I didn't think that Morgana, too, had been neglected by her father because of his job, but I felt sorry for her. I didn't bother to squash the feeling because as soon as the murmurs about how Morgana talked a lot about herself all the time, the feeling surged on and I felt kind of defensive toward the girl, as much as I hated her. I don't know why, but maybe because I knew how she felt with fathers like that.

The next words Morgana said surprised me to the point that I thought that I was now shocked.

"But I don't mind. It gives us more influence and power all over America. I love being rich and famous." The words were said almost smugly, but there was a small—almost unidentifiable—tremor in her voice. I didn't know what that tremor was about, but I knew well enough that everybody hadn't heard that significant sound.

The small, almost immaculate, heart-shaped face of Mia twisted in scorn. She really had a mean streak in her. "We don't care about your money _or_ your family, Ashford. You're inside the Academy, and they hold no power on us, so stop bragging about how rich and popular you are—it won't gain you anything but shit."

A hiss sounded from Morgana as she stood up with blazing eyes. "You're just saying that because you're fucking jealous. Who are you, Rinaldi? Oh, wait, I heard your father had been arrested for smuggling drugs by my _father's friend_."

I swear I heard Mia growl as she stood up. "That's because it is true!" Mia shouted angrily. Her tiny fists were clenched so tightly, her tanned knuckles turned white.

About to intervene, I stood up, but Lissa put a hand on my arm, silently telling me to hold my horses. Grudgingly, I did.

Mia turned around to look at each of our faces. "It's true! I'm not ashamed to admit that my father is locked up in Tartarus for illegal deeds such as smuggling drugs and dealing with the black market for weapons used for terrorizing countries. I admit it, and I'm proud of it. My father did his best to ensure our needs even through illegal means, but I'm not going to say I was happy about it. You, Morgana, should keep that in mind that what I sacrificed for these deity powers is much greater than yours. You're nothing but a selfish bitch that needs attitude adjustments."

The cicadas' sounds grew loud. Morgana had that look on her face that I saw before. "You," she pointed at Mia with a long pointer finger. "are nothing. Mere trash to the world."

With that, all hell broke loose. Odessa stood up, a pacifying look on her face, but before she could smooth things out with her doctor's voice, two girls—twins—stood up and so did Tasha. They looked murderous. Lissa and I stood up too. I was jittery and restless. I felt useless, but I didn't know what to do. I didn't like that even one bit.

The twins—whom I'd been introduced to as Melina and Magdalena—were immigrants from Rome, and their accents grated my head more. "You can't say that to anyone just because you're father is a powerful man!" Melina—or Magdalena, I couldn't point out their differences—shrieked at her, the tone not nice at all.

Magdalena—or Melina—had a homicidal look on her face as she chanted something in Italian—or maybe it was Latin, I can't really identify. The ground shook as a root went out of the earth to grab one of Morgana's boot-clad leg. Morgana let out a scream so loud I wondered why Homeland Security didn't show up. The root dug Morgana's feet under the ground then she unleashed her powers. Three metal arrow points. It floated in the air before shooting toward to three different directions.

And then, everything came into a slow motion again. I saw one arrow point charging toward Mia, and it aimed directly at the chest. I didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know that a direct puncture to the chest was fatal, especially on the right side. Without any hesitation, I ran to Mia, holding out my hand to catch the metal arrow point.

But just as soon as I started running, my adrenaline shot up to a level I didn't know I had and my powers overruled me. As fast as lightning, something shot out of my hands and hit the metal arrow point squarely, and it melted so quickly I doubted that it'd just been two seconds after Morgana fired.

Just as soon as everything started, it ended. The girls were subdued and Morgana lay on the ground, panting and shaking her head as if waking up from something. Her leg was still planted on the ground and it was twisted in a way that told me it was broken.

At my back, Mia put a hand on my shoulder. "Thanks," she said sincerely and looked at Morgana, an emotion close to compassion crossing on her face, but disappearing immediately. "I guess I owe you. A lot."

I looked at the men at our backs. "Yeah. You do. We'd be even if you can get me out of trouble." The look on Dimitri's face now wasn't warm at all. Truth to be told, he looked ready to strangle somebody, but I assured myself that he always looked that way. He had looked the same when I first saw him on the cafeteria.

"What's this? Tequila from the source and you didn't bother calling me? How prude of you to not call me for the big Homeroom event. I'm a big fan of tequila myself." The sound of the voice had me snapping my head to its direction. "And, oh, what's this? An arrow point? I thought using this outside classes was prohibited."

Oh, Glenda so wasn't faking it. She had said that she wouldn't get in trouble along with us—and she predicted right. We got into trouble. Busted.

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**Darn. Adrian's such a liquor maniac. Hahaha! As always. It wouldn't be the same if Adrian isn't into that in this story. As usual, I'm going to update…this coming Saturday or Sunday, I think. It depends if I can spare some time to write. Or maybe you can just help me pray finding my flash drive. Depends on you… Dimitri's the hottest guy alive, dead or undead, old or young, long hair or no hair. Hahaha! I'd like to see how people will react if I say Dimitri's bald here.**

**People who will review are the best, and will get a few teasers for the next chap. I may have lost the manuscript, but I know what's going to happen. *smiley***

**xOxO,**

**Katie**


	19. Chapter 18

**At last, I updated. Sorry, I was just very busy, what with our examinations and all…**

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**Chapter Eighteen**

**2103T hours; Young Night**

**9:03 PM, Elemental Fey Territory, St. Vladimir's Academy**

**Homeroom**

**Adrian stood there, an arrow point held between his index finger and thumb,** as if examining a delicate thing. I looked at Dimitri and saw that one of the arrow points was clenched in his fist so tight his knuckles were white. Ow, that must hurt.

Dimitri told Adrian something in Russian, and Adrian rolled his eyes and sighed. "Okay, okay. Sheesh, Russians. I never get you sometimes." Adrian mumbled and hid a little snicker, having just realizing that he, too, had made fun of himself. He cleared his throat. "Miss Ashford, and you two girls, Miss—?"

"Bruno. Melina and Magdalena Bruno," one of the twins said with her arms crossed on her chest, looking up and down at Adrian. I was sure the girl was checking him out despite the awful cloaks.

"Ah, yes. The Bruno twins. Okay." Adrian looked so gleeful, he could have been discussing about naked women and alcohol. Adrian rubbed his hands together and clapped, making a bunch of liches pop out of nowhere.

The twins and everybody snapped out of their stupor the Vessels had besieged upon them. Some yelped at the sight of the ugly smelly zombies, but most of them looked like they'd been seeing liches a lot now. They must have had The Dread too.

"You three girls, Melina and Magdalena Bruno and Morgana Ashford, are hereby summoned to Kirova's office for blah blah blah discipline matters. Now, girls, be good darlings and let the liches escort you there while the grumpy Vessel and I take care of the mess in here. Understood? Yes? Okay, bye-bye." As he waved the twins and some liches off, he sounded and looked so casual he could have just been discussing about the weather.

I sighed and looked back at Morgana. She was still sitting on the ground, her foot still under. I went to help her up when I heard Mia mumble, "Yeah, help her up, she's going to appreciate it," but I flipped that off.

I caught Morgana's arm. "Does your leg hurt?" I asked her as quietly and softly as I could.

She shook her arm away from me. "Fuck off," she snarled and tried to stand up by herself but ended up falling again on her butt. They laughed at her.

I didn't know what it was but something in my chest shifted. "Girl, I'm trying to help you here." I said grumpily and caught her arm again. I didn't give her time to protest. I pulled her up to me and I heard her hiss in pain.

"Bitch! Get out of my face and fuck off!" with those words, she shoved me away that would have sent me sprawling on the ground if someone hadn't caught me.

My own temper spiked up and it was all I could do to not go up to her and punch her as hard as I could. Yes, I'm that violent. Only if provoked, that is.

"What is it with you, Morgana?" Everybody went quiet; the Vessels eyed me and my rescuer—who sounded like Tasha—warily. The girl in question's head snapped up, her eyes glowing brightly. "I mean, Rose was just trying to help you!" I was surprised at the anger in Tasha's voice. Wary, I disentangled myself from her and watched her as her eyes burned with rage at Morgana. "You know, I thought you were just a girl who had a shitty childhood who'd get over it soon, but you now, you proved me wrong. You're almost twenty, for Jesus' sake and you're still bullying people!"

Morgana waved Tasha's speech off like it was nothing. "Oh, spare me the lecture, Natasha, and just call me bitch already. No need to beat around the fucking bush." With a grunt, Morgana stepped forward, but ended up tripping.

I looked around us and saw that everybody had either blank or disgusted looks on their faces. I looked at Lissa and mouthed "heal" at her. She promptly got on my side and helped me pull Morgana up despite her protests.

We managed to back against a tree while Lissa probed on her broken ankle. Fortunately, Morgana made no move to walk away from what was best for her. I stood up and backed away, leaning on a tree. I watched as Lissa touched and massaged Morgana's ankle.

Lissa looked up at me. "I can't do much healing to this. It's pretty broken and it's starting to swell. I can only heal this completely after an hour or two." She told me, an apologetic look on her face.

"Heal as much as you can, Miss Dragomir. We need her up and walking since nobody wants to volunteer in carrying her to the Headmistress's office for reasons obviously known." A low voice said from behind me.

I jumped and saw that Dimitri was standing right behind the tree I was leaning at. "Shit, way to startle a girl, Dimitri." I grumbled and tried my best to relax back on the tree, putting one foot up the bark and crossing my arms across my chest. I would have looked utterly cool and badass if I didn't have a blush rising up to my neck and face.

"What? Rose Hathaway—startled? Why, I never thought I'd ever see the day!"

I winced at Adrian's tone—it was as excited and gleeful as before. The man had such little and short happiness that every single insignificant thing made him laugh—sometimes when he wasn't in Vessel mode. I tried to ignore the Vessels and the small gathering crowd and looked as Lissa's fingers did magic—literally—on Morgana's ankle.

Morgana's eyes were closed, her face contorted in pain, but she had a strong will and control not to scream out. She was pale and sweating and I felt a very small twinge in me. I didn't know what the feeling was, but whatever it was, I didn't like it.

Dimitri and Adrian spoke little, and when Lissa was finally done with her partial healing to Morgana's ankle, she stood up and held a hand for Morgana to take. I didn't know whose side Lissa was on, but she looked definitely neutral.

"After you're done with the Headmistress, go to your room and rest—I don't need you breaking your ankle again. I'll be at your room an hour or so from now." Her voice was neutral too.

To my surprise, Morgana accepted her hand and gave Lissa a small smile. It looked as genuine a smile Morgana could give. Morgana looked better and I felt a little okay towards her now that I knew that she could be friendly to some people. But the words she said next completely made me hate her again. Okay, maybe hate was too strong a word, but you get the point.

"We rich people just have to stick together, right?"

Lissa didn't say anything as Morgana made her way out of the Fey Territory with a lich escort.

I sighed in irritation. She just doesn't give up, does she? "Well, that was fun," I mumbled and pushed myself off the tree with ease and turned to face the two Vessels.

"So…what are our punishments?" I asked them.

Dimitri, for the first time, smiled with mirth. Shit, this wasn't good.

"**We got this because we let things get out of hand?"** I asked, still incredulous. "How the fuck was I supposed to know that these things would happen? I'm just an unsuspecting victim and not a suspect who needs to be punished! Fuck you, people! This is—" I looked for the dirtiest word I could find, but ended up just sputtering things in Turkish. I tended to translate and mope in Turkish where people couldn't understand me. No harm in hiding anger-induced words, right?

Lissa raised her hand to wipe on her sweat, and smiled at me. She didn't seem to notice my change of language. She looked sleepy and tired. I also felt the same, but she'd done much worse things than me tonight. For one, she'd healed Morgana and I'd only melted a metal arrow point with a shockwave current from my palm.

"It's a fair punishment, even for the Vessels. Nobody wins whenever it comes to them and you're no exception." She said and got back to her job at hand.

Just after I'd asked Dimitri what was our punishment for letting things—as I'd like to quote—"escalate into a level where people got hurt," we had ended up picking up trash, weeds, and almost every bit of everything for the whole remaining period of our Homeroom. Thus, no fun at all.

Luckily, Lissa and I were given a job together. She and I were assigned to net up stray leaves and other things on the deep-ish lake of the Naiad's. It was a little unfair, but it was a lose-lose situation when you try to argue with Vessels. Trust me, I've tried.

I held my net up high and dumped the trash and leaves I got from the lake on a trash receptacle. Lissa followed suit.

"Is this always like this? One blow, and then you're cleaning for a week?" I asked Lissa.

"Not all the time," it was a different person who answered me.

I turned to look at Mia. I gave her a small smile and nod.

"Rose, rubber boots and gloves don't suit you well." She pointed out.

"So I've been told," I said and winked at her.

"I could've sworn you were interested in girls if you weren't so hung up on the Vessel of Poseidon."

"What?" Stupefied, I was.

She took a look at my face and laughed. "You. Hung up on a guy. I thought you were a lesbian before, not that there's something wrong about being one, but you just don't seem to be the type who chase guys. You look pretty hot with your bikini back there."

Suddenly, I felt a surge of embarrassment. I wondered, it was all too new to me. The emotions, the impulse, the confusion…everything. I've never felt this way before, and I liked it, as much as it was confusing. And I thought I was hiding my rather uncomfortable stomach-twisting-into-a-knot nature when Dimitri was close by.

"I don't know what you mean," I frowned at my words, not knowing why and how they got out. Yeah, I know that I didn't understand what Mia had just said, but I was wondering how reflexive answers escaped from my mouth.

Mia raised a brow. "Uh-huh," she said, not convinced at all.

"Rinaldi! We need you here!" A guy who sounded like Moffat called from the woods.

Mia looked back at the trees and shouted, "In a minute!" before waving at me and Lissa, turning back to her job at the woods.

"So…" I started, and let out a long breath, making a puff of smoke form in front of my face.

"So what?" asked Lissa, sounding a little out of it.

"About this Glenda Birch—she's really no fraud?"

Lissa shook her head. "Nope. Remember what she just said a while ago about her not wanting to get in trouble with us?"

"Yeah, I guess." I still couldn't believe that someone could see the future. It was just preposterous. "So…her Tourette's. When did it start?" I asked Lissa a bit hesitantly. I was only a wee bit curious about this Glenda character—she was an interesting subject to talk about. Or maybe I'll find out that she's faking.

Lissa seemed to have gone back to the past. "It was the day when she discovered what she was."

"You mean a fortune teller? A gypsy?" I supplied.

"No, no." Lissa shook her head again. "She is said to be a prophet." The dislike on her statement took me a little aback.

"What's wrong with being a prophet?"

"Nothing. It's just that her powers—it makes her crazy, you know? Drives her over the edge. It's not really the actual medical Tourette's syndrome, but she just has this impulse to tell everybody about what might come to them." she explained while continuing to pick up trash.

I frowned, considering. "Makes? You mean, present tense?" And what was up with my Spanish Inquisition?

She nodded. "Still makes her crazy. She goes to intense therapy everyday but that didn't do any good either."

"How long has she been here?"

"Almost a year now. She found out only five months ago. You know, what she was." Lissa's vague words would have made me more confused, but I understood perfectly.

"Must have been hard for her." I said and looked down to my reflection on the lake.

"Tasha's been good to her. She's been with Glenda each time she had a…_moment_." I was surprised that Lissa was telling me all these stuff. I expected her to evade the subject, which she was known to do.

"Tasha? What about her and Glenda?" I asked curiously.

"Tasha was always there for Glenda. I think that's the only reason why Glenda stays sane—more or less."

A small smile tugged at the sides of my lips. "Yeah, Tasha's a good friend."

Somehow, I believed that she really was, which was fucked up.

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**I will update soon… Promise. :-p**

**I'll go and score myself some Dimitri. LOL**

**xOxO,**

**K8**


	20. Chapter 19

**Sorry, I'm a terrible writer when distracted. But good news! It's summer vacation for me! I hope I can write more chapters and finish this story!**

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**Chapter Nineteen**

**Fifteen minutes later,** we were done scooping up trashes from the lake/pond, and Lissa and I went on our separate ways. She said she had to check on Morgana in her cabin. I offered to walk her there, but she refused and said that I needed the rest because I'd used some.

It took me a little bit of time and understanding to comprehend what she meant by "had used some." She was referring to my power—said that I had just used some of it and assumed that I was tired as hell. Fortunately, I wasn't and it was a wonder for me. I've never used that magnitude of my magic without fainting…well, maybe except for my dramatic entrance, but I was still doubtful. Maybe I was improving. My day—or night—brightened at this.

My good mood ended as soon as I knew that I was lost. Again.

I was in the middle of woods-nowhere, and there was only little light the moon provided. I looked up and held up my hands, palms up, in a surrender sort of gesture.

"Okay, God, I get it. You're punishing me, but I don't know why you are." I mumbled quietly. "You know that I didn't do anything. You gotta believe me, Bro."

As usual, there was no answer from the man upstairs. I felt like a total bullcrap talking to myself, but something at the back of my head insisted that someone was listening. I only didn't know who it was, though.

I continued walking straight, and it was a few minutes of exasperation later when I saw the light. I sighed in relief and ran toward the light. When I was close enough, I knew exactly where I had arrived again. At the temples. Crap.

"I don't know…" The words drifted in with the wind, fading in and out.

I looked around to see who owned the voice, but there wasn't enough light for me to see.

"Nothing… you are… best… fight…" The words faded in and out like before, and I swear that the voice sounded familiar, but it was only too far away for me to ID it.

"…need to go…see us…"

I walked to one place, trying to follow both my instincts and my sense of hearing to find the people talking. Approximately six steps later, I came up behind a tree and heard the voices had stopped. There were two dark figures in front of me, far enough from me so I couldn't see their faces. The height of the other figure, though, reminded me of Dimitri's. And the other one was surely a girl. The figure was thin, and trembling. The bigger figure put a hand on what looked like her shoulder. Nothing happened after that, but I could sense an emotion practical in the area. I couldn't put a finger on what emotion it was.

There was a sound from behind me and I looked back. There was nothing there, and when I looked back at where the two figures were, they were not there anymore.

I blew out a tired breath, making a lock of stray hair fly out of my face. I watched it as it fell back against my cheek. With that action, I knew just how out of it I was. The liquor was taking its toll on me and so was my energy—or lack, thereof. I was more than a little haggard, and believe me; I'd been through worse before.

Shoving the mystery of the "Two Talking Figures That Looked So Familiar," I took the way I walked before. It was easy to find my way again, having just been passing there just a minute or so ago. I was glad that I didn't have low memory 'cause if I had, I would've been as lost as Gulliver was in Bermuda Triangle.

As I walked back again to the faint light that indicated the temples, I had a recurring image a hungover Rose. The image made me shudder and I suppressed it, pushing it at the back of my mind. I thought about a few things and people, including Tasha (kinda nice), Lissa (angelic as always), Dimitri (badass man, and I mean it), Adrian (drunken version of badass), Mia (cutie with spunk), Morgana (psychotic bitch), and my TiVo back at home… I sighed, the sound longingly wistful.

Before I could go brooding about how I left my TiVo at home, I found myself in the land where the friggin' temples were. I had promised myself to never set a foot in here after what I've been through, but now, I had directed myself here purposely in the hopes of—what? Getting in trouble? Hardly. I didn't know what I was hoping to gain by coming here, but by misfortune, a free class the dishwashing room at the dining hall. If I was lucky enough to escape here undetected, zilch. Nada. Which sounded dismally boring. I guess my life (ves)—whichever it was—was all sorts of boring. I could never win, can I?

I raised my hands and quickly set them back to my sides, making a soft clapping noise. I watched the vacant land in the middle of the two gihugic temples of two deranged men with equally deranged powers. I sighed again—and then cursed profusely.

"That's it," I said with resolve. "I am never going to sigh ever again. Even if it's the last promise I'll ever make." When I realized I was talking to myself, I nearly gave up and sighed again, but I caught myself the right time. "Christ," I mumbled started to turn, but before I could, the rain—which had recently stopped at sundown—picked up its bouts again. But now, with an extra bonus that I absolutely loathed.

The sound of thunder set my teeth on edge and it was the only thing I could do not to run and cover my ears from the horrible sounds. The lightning that struck about just a mile or two away from where I was momentarily blinded me from its brightness. I had to blink to regain my sight.

Thunder sounded again, louder this time, and it was as if last year was being reenacted. The sound of thunder coming, the sight of lightning blinding. This was just all too familiar.

_And very poetic_, I added dryly.

"Fucking A," I grumbled as I realized that I had no more choice but to approach one of the deranged men's temples for shelter, but just before I could, a movement in front of me caught my line of sight.

At the vacant lot in front of me was a figure. Not the same figure that I had seen a while ago, but another one, and this time, as lightning struck for that just one millisecond, I saw his features as clearly as I could read his expression.

It was a guy not older than me, with a shock of white blond hair, and striking pale gold eyes that reminded me of the rising sun—or lightning. His build was average, no taller than me, but what struck me in him was his smile.

It was full of pure, unadulterated intent and mischief that terrified me. I didn't know why it made me react that way.

With that flash of light the lightning created, he was gone.

**0732T hours**

**07:32 AM, Dining Hall, St. Vladimir's Academy**

**Breakfast**

"**I have never used drugs before or after I died,"** And then it fucking hit me like a wrecking ball. "Wait, why am I saying these stupid fuckin' things?" I forked bacon on my plate not so gently.

Lissa frowned while Kristin gave me a motherly "don't curse in front of your food" look.

"I don't know," Lissa chewed on her food for a while, and the swallowed. "It sounds truthful when you say it, but with the others," A scowl formed in her face. "The others are just liars, I know. So, you haven't, like, taken drugs before? You sure?"

I coughed and Lissa had to pat me on the back before I puked. Again. I cleared my throat as soon as I was done with my coughing fit. People shot me looks, but I ignored them. "Lissa, it doesn't mean that I'm some kind of poor lowly girl with no fucking bank account, doesn't mean I'm going to act like a depressed whore who gets high for no apparent reason except for the obvious." Oh, how the lies easily slip out of my mouth. My pants should be on fire by now.

Lissa's eyes widened. "No, Rose, I didn't mean that." she said, her eyes twinkling like they always did when she was misunderstood.

"Then please, Princess Dragomir, enlighten me. Tell me what you meant," It came out harsher than I meant it to. I popped another strip of bacon in my mouth. I managed to chew the thing until it was soft enough for me not to choke on.

"I just meant, I didn't mean…" she stuttered. Lissa's hands turned white as she twisted and played with them, nervousness evident in her. From what I heard about the Dragomir family, they weren't ones who showed weaknesses often, and I found myself in an awkward situation with Lissa.

I put a hand on her hands, suddenly feeling stupid for my earlier reprisal. As usual, I couldn't utter out a direct apology, even for Lissa. "Don't worry, Liss. I thought that Adrian—Hades' Vessel—was on drugs too, but that was before I discovered that he was just normally high."

Lissa stopped playing with her hands and laughed, her cheeks turning pink. I envied that about her. She turned rosy pink. I turned beet red, and let me tell you about blushing that color—it ain't cool.

"Yes, sometimes, we see him as such," Lissa agreed and smiled at me, the previous nervousness almost gone. "And it's Vessel of Hades, not Hades' Vessel, Rose. Remember that."

I dropped her hands, and got back to my food. Lissa wasn't the only one who insisted on lengthening names and titles. "I don't feel comfortable talking about him in front of my food, and why the heck do you even bother calling him the long way? Hades' Vessel's just enough." I told her got back to eating.

Lissa shrugged. "It's just the way it is. Maybe if we apply apostrophes on their titles, it makes them sound a little new-worldish. Vessels are sensitive when it comes to using of words. Their—for the lack of a better description—picky."

Seriously fucked up was more like it.

Exactly ten seconds later, Adrian and Dimitri made their elegant entrance that normally dazzled people into stupor. In this case—or maybe in others too, I just didn't know who—I was the only one immune to their so-called "glamour" they carry around. Perks of being a man of great power, they had said.

My stomach tightened as Dimitri lowered his hood, and rested his gaze on nowhere in particular. Adrian, looking unusually bored today, rested his hands on the arms of his marble throne, and leaned back, saying a few words to Dimitri. Dimitri, hearing Adrian's words, replied and stood up, sweeping his cloak while he made his way out of the dining hall.

I didn't miss it when his eyes caught mine for just one second. It was more than enough of an acknowledgment I had from him. The knot in my stomach tightened even further, it felt like I could hurl out butterflies from my mouth. And maybe that was it—butterflies.

_Jesus Christ on a crutch_, I thought. _Butterflies?_ I snorted and I stood up, not feeling so hungry anymore.

"Where're you going? I thought you wanted double breakfast with me?"

I looked ruefully at Lissa. "Dunno. Feeling kinda queasy. I'll take triple at lunch. See you soon." I flipped her ponytail and, out of habit, grabbed a muffin from her plate.

* * *

**Not much happened here, but who do you think was the guy on the Temples? Will he play an important role or not? How is he related to the Vessels—Dimitri and Adrian? And can you guess who were those two talking figures?**

**Guess away, and review away…**

**xOxO,**

**K8**


	21. Chapter 20

**Hahaha, I just died and came back to earth to update this.**

**I have excuses why I wasn't able to update for about a month, but I know you're not interested, so I'll just leave it here.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

**0813T hours**

**8:13 AM, Endo Domain, St. Vladimir's Academy**

**Class: If Looks Could Kill**

**The classes came. **"If Looks Could Kill" wasn't bad at all when Eddie wasn't putting people to sleep without their permission. We usually practiced controlling our sleep patterns, attempting to manage our time of sleep, and to an extent, control our dreams. I found the practices Eddie (not Edison anymore, 'cause it's just a mouthful) put us through was only the "mellow" version of it. But then again, he could have just picked up a butcher knife and sliced us all up while we "slept."

I knew that I was paranoid, and there's no _but_ in that. I'm paranoid, plain and simple.

About twenty minutes of Eddie's "mellow" version of his training, he said that I was good to go to the next level. I felt jittery again, and that's when I thought that maybe—just maybe—I was excited. Never have I been excited before and that was the reason why I found life so boring. Maybe I was a psycho—not able to feel any emotions, but can act them. But then, I couldn't even act that well, hence, I wasn't a psycho. And, well, I _can_ feel emotions. At least some of them.

Edison helped me to another big room with coal black walls with only a few source of light. Many Academists have been there with Eddie's class, but here, there were only four, including me. And when Eddie left, another woman came striding in the doorway Eddie vacated.

The woman was pretty, very pretty. She had very long light brown hair that stopped at the curve of her rear, and eyes that could pierce the sharpest of objects. Her eyes, the color of pale molten silver, made me pause. Was she wearing contact lenses? That kind of eye color just wasn't real except when you're blind. And then, when her blind walking stick clicked on the ground and came into sight, I just knew that she was blind.

The woman was very tall, about six feet, and model-thin. She paused just in front of me and a slow smile curved her Cupid's bow red lips.

"I've been waiting for you," the woman said. Her voice, low and throaty, wrapped around me, enchanting me to close my eyes and feel her voice once more…

"Am I that popular for me to be waited by such a pretty girl?" I realized that I hadn't said those words, and I quickly looked around for the person who did.

At my right was a guy with unruly black hair and tall form. I knew who he was. Christian Ozera. I wasn't so surprised to see him here, and I knew that he was a guy with skills and guts, but what confused me was the woman in front of him.

It was the same woman in front of me too. I looked back and forth at her then to the one in front of me.

"Oh… You're, like, able to multiply. Like Echo-Echo in Ben Ten." Again, my TV addiction was taking their toll on me too.

"No. You are dreaming," said the woman who looked no older than Tasha.

My face involuntarily scrunched up. "Ew. Christian and I are sharing a dream? That's just…_yuck_."

The hand that wasn't holding her walking stick rose and flicked, making Christian and her other self disappear completely into the dark. "Not anymore," she purred. "You're dreaming, Rose." She said it like it answered all my questions.

I tried to raise one brow again, but to no avail. "Really," I crossed my arms across my chest. "I don't remember ever sleeping after Eddie woke me up."

"Eddie didn't wake you up. You were—_are_ asleep."

I still didn't believe her. "Reeeaaally,"

Her blind eyes focused on me. She might as well have been seeing me clearly rather than just following my voice. "You are dreaming. I am your dream." She declared.

"Sorry to disappoint you, sister, but you're not exactly my type." I told her solemnly.

Her eyes, nearly colorless and piercing, flashed and brightened. If possible, her eyes got bigger, nearly swallowing me whole.

"Such humor, Rose Hathaway, might lead you to the path of a—" I noticed at how her voice got throatier by the second.

"Stand-up comedian," I finished for her.

A fleeting smile appeared on her heartbreaking face. "No. But of a dummy, yes."

What happened next convinced me that I was dreaming. No more than two seconds later, I was pinned on a wooden wheel; my limbs spread-eagle while the wheel spun slowly, agonizingly. My breath came in short pants, and my head spun, making my stomach paunch.

I managed to glare at the woman despite my state. "You better get me off of here," I said warningly.

She didn't pretend to not hear me. "Not yet."

I struggled against my restraints, but they were too strong.

"While you are locked there, let me tell you about myself," she said conversationally. She picked up one sharp knife with what looked like a granite hilt. I gulped as she tossed one into the air, and caught it lithely mid-air on the hilt. Her eyes, previously focused nowhere, came to meet my gaze. "I can be a dream, but I can also be your worst nightmare." She said it so casually we might as well have been talking about the weather.

With those few words, she threw one knife toward me. With a loud, nerve-racking sound, the knife landed just beside my ear. Fuck. I'm never getting out of this alive. If ever I was lucky enough to survive this, I'm sure I won't be getting out of here with my sanity intact. The excruciatingly slow sound of the wheel spinning put me through hell, while the lady's solemn exterior made me crazy.

The picked up one knife again and stroked it almost lovingly. "My name is Gretta Voight." She threw another knife, landing at the side of my stomach, barely missing me.

The fear that I held back came bursting out with revenge. Another knife went flying and it landed just inches away from my shin. "I'm half Kazakh, half German." Another one landed beside my wrist. My heart thumped madly in my chest. My breathing was so uneven I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"I'm powerful. Eddie's my apprentice." She picked up another knife—a butcher knife—and heaved it in her hands. With a move too fast for my eyes to follow, she chucked it toward me with ease. It landed between my legs.

I tried my best to control my breathing. "What do I need to do to stop you from doing this further?"

She smiled a little. "_Make_ me stop. Don't ask." She carelessly tossed another one, and I grew almost used to the sound it made. The slow spin of the wheel was what bothered me.

"Gretta, stop," I said with lack of confidence.

"Say it again, please," _Thump_, it landed on the other side of my head.

I breathed in deeply and closed my eyes, picturing my father's stern dark eyes. I imagined him saying stuffs like "make them pay", "make them beg for mercy", "_make them stop_" and my composure built up.

"Stop," I said, but my voice was still breathless.

_Thump,_ it landed just below my armpit.

"Not convincing enough," _Thump, _I didn't know where it landed, but I sure did feel a little breeze on my right leg. She might have torn my jeans.

"Stop," Shaky, still shaky.

"Again," _Thump._

I squeezed my eyes shut as another knife came at me. But now, it didn't miss hitting my flesh. My right cheek got slashed and the knife stayed planted on the wood. My cheek stung, but I wasn't about to show weakness in front of her, even restrained and very vulnerable.

"Stop it." I noticed the change in my voice now. It was more commanding.

_Thump_. There was no answer from her but she continued doing what she was doing.

_Thump._ My temper spiked up as soon as I realized that she wasn't answering me. "I said stop the fucking wheel!" I shouted so loud it should have cracked a window in two.

The wheel stopped and I was a little glad that the wheel didn't stop upside down. Now, the only issue was…she wasn't stopping at throwing those fucking knives and I was still restrained.

"Release me." I commanded, and, to my surprise, the leather straps that held me captive opened and released me. I knocked off a couple of knives along the way. I pressed a hand against my bleeding right cheek and hissed in pain. "Apeshit," I cursed.

Gretta, who had stopped throwing knives for once, stepped forward, a small jeweled dagger in her hands.

"Why the fuck am I still asleep?" I demanded.

"Stop me from keeping you asleep," was her quiet response.

I growled. "I want you to wake me up this instant, Gretta."

Nothing happened.

"Now what?" I raked my hair with my finger in frustration and anger.

"You have to stop me, Rose. Use what the gods have given you."

Oh, hell yeah, she was testing me. "Trust me; you don't want me using them on you."

"Trust me; I want you using them on me."

With that, a part of me opened up and a rush of electricity crackled in the air around us. The momentary thrill I got from using my "powers" made feel like a kid in a candy store. A ball the color of pale gold gathered between my hands like nuclear energy ready to burst. Before the ball threw itself at Gretta, a flash of a smile escaped from her lips, and then she accepted the destructive thing I sent her with open arms. The last thing I saw was the jeweled dagger she was holding clatter to the floor as the ball of energy consumed her.

* * *

**The end. **

**Of chapter twenty.**

**Question: Who is Gretta? What do you think about her? What do you think is her role in this story?  
**


	22. Chapter 21

**Quite a long chapter. I guess this is going to make up for some things. I really am sorry. I was more than a little distracted. I just got over the very first…mmm…how do I put this? Heart-break? Nah, not really. It was more of a fling. Yeah. LOL Anyway, I'm fine now. So fiiine, I feel like breaking necks. Hahaha**

**Special thanks to Nicia.  
**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty One**

**0909T hours**

**9:09 AM, Montana Mountain, Mountain Daylight**

**Class: Cascada's Song**

_Something came up and I can't come in and train you today. Look for Christian, he'll know what to do. _

_-Tasha_

Well, good grief. I crumpled Tasha's letter and stomped inside the fire-resistant dome. When I got inside, it was just then that I noticed that there was nearly empty. I was such in a flight today, I didn't know why. The dome was transparent and I didn't even have enough incentive to look if anybody was inside at all.

I found Christian in a corner talking to a girl that looked suspiciously like Lissa.

The long straight platinum blond hair could have just given her away, but Lissa's usual "Royal presence" was missing. She looked tiny, and scared now. Suddenly, concern welled in me for Lissa. I didn't know why I was concerned, I was almost an unemotional psychopath when I left the city, but when it came to Lissa, it just seemed like I could feel. That sounded really cheesy, I know.

I ran toward Christian and Lissa hurriedly, enough to catch them surprised.

"Hey, Lissa," I cast a small smile at Lissa and glared at Christian. "What'd you do to her?"

Christian raised both his hands, the usual smirk on his face on. "Whoa, there, tigerella. I didn't do anything to the Princess."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I asked in my commander's voice.

He shrugged nonchalantly, but I could see the hindered worry under the careless gesture. "Lissa's just worried about her cousin." he said, and then he suddenly looked uneasy at my speculative glance. "She's missing, okay?"

My eyebrows rose at their own accord. "She has a cousin here?" I asked mostly to myself.

"Uh, no she doesn't." The sarcasm delivered was evident. Christian rolled his eyes at my apparent lack of knowledge.

I turned to Lissa, and tugged at her sleeve. "Hey, Liss, don't worry, maybe she's just out there playing with the naiads." Even though I didn't know who her cousin was, I still had to reassure her, right?

She shook her head and tears formed in her eyes. "No, no, she isn't there, I already looked. I looked everywhere and she's still not there!" she said miserably.

The hysterical note in her voice reminded me of Yilmaz. I shook my head at her. "No, no. Listen to me, Lissa. We're going to find her, alright? I promise you. I'll even personally talk to the Vessels for help." _If _they would help. If they wouldn't, well, I just have to threaten them so that they'd do it.

A sudden hope made Lissa's face glow. "Really? You'd ask them for me? For Natalie?"

I supposed that was her cousin's name. "Yes, of course. You're my friend, and friends help each other, right?"

Lissa nodded and wiped her tears away. "I hope it's not asking too much, Rose." She said and hugged me tightly, her nearly bony arms pinching me in a way that I found both welcoming and a little irritating.

"Okay, okay," I patted her back. I wasn't a forte in public display of affection, and definitely not a girl-on-girl action. But speaking of…that sounded kinda appealing…for me, anyway, and that was a guilty pleasure.

Lissa pulled away with a sniff. "I have to go back there." Lissa pointed at a crowd of people outside the dome. "We're on a search-and-rescue mission. It hasn't been just Natalie—" Lissa choked on it a little, but I got the message. It hasn't been just Natalie who turned up missing. This was bad.

And from the situation's "badness," I did what I thought I never would. "I'll come with you. Let me help," Altruism, I knew, was never my thing, but it wasn't a sin to help, right?

Lissa adamantly shook her head. "No, no, you have to keep training." She told me, but her will was low.

I looked around the dome that was our "classroom" and gave Lissa a questioning look. "It's nearly empty. I think everybody's gone with the search or just used the search as an excuse to skip the class." I told Lissa a matter-of-factly.

After a minute of boring argument with Lissa, she finally gave in. "Okay, but don't get lost, too. I don't know what I'd do if you—"

"I won't get lost, I promise." I told her with a firm look set on my face. "We'll even scout together if you want."

She nodded. I looked back at Christian. "Tell Tasha that I didn't get in today. I want to help—"

Christian held up his hand. It was just now that I had noticed his hair was the kind you categorized as an "emo" type. "I'll tell Tasha that you wished to jump bones with a mystery, alright."

That irked me. It was just then that I realized that it hadn't just been altruism telling me to help, but also curiosity. I wonder how Christian knew that. Huh. "No, I'm not. I just want to help Lissa and her cousin." I countered to no avail. Christian easily waved me off and I didn't like that even one bit.

"Yeah, yeah, lie to yourself."

I was about to say something really, really rude and dirty before Lissa pulled me out of the "conversation" I had with Christian.

"Christian, stop it." Lissa ordered in a voice you often hear from moms on TV. "Rose, let's go."

We did.

**Exactly seventeen and thirty-two seconds later, **we were inside the _Therion_Territory, scouring in every nook and cranny in the place. The _Therion _Territory was the home of the werebeings and other part-human part-animal creatures the Academy had. It was a beautiful place, all nature and all those stuff, but unfortunately, the people—or rather half-animal half-humans—living there were over-the-edge protective of what belonged to them. Every time I touch something that wasn't supposed to be touched, I get growled at every _Therion _that was nearby.

My conclusion for the place: creepy and beyond overbearing.

When we were at the edge of the territory, I saw something…_out of place._

"What's that?" I pointed at the thing. We were on the very edge of the Academy itself; we could almost see the invisible Camouflage that hid the Academy from the public eye.

There, just on the transparent surface was a very small almost unnoticeable deterioration. It was such a small, insignificant damage; it could have just passed as nothing. But with my detective's eye, it was far from nothing. From the looks of the near-blurry images of the world outside the Camouflage, I concluded that it was either a forced exit or forced entrance into or out of the Academy.

From the way the Camouflage inside was pushed, it was an apparent forced exit for me. For me, anyway. I was no expert, but I've been trained well enough by my father to guess right.

Cautiously, I touched the deterioration on the Camouflage lightly. It felt like what it felt before—cold and jelly. Like a fish's bloated stomach.

"What is it, Rose?" asked Lissa from behind me.

Distracted, I ran my hands down the damage. "Come here." When she did, I pointed the damage at her. "What do you think this is?"

Lissa narrowed her eyes at it and leaned in. "Huh, I don't know, but it looks kinda blurry, you know? It might be nothing." She leaned back and tucked her hair behind her ears.

I looked at Lissa seriously. "When lives are at stake, all evidences, no matter how small, should be reported and assumed as essential." I remarked.

"Okay. Let's report this." Lissa said and we marched back toward the middle of _Therion _Territory.

I caught up with her and grabbed her arm. "Hey, let's not report this directly to them," I had a dire feeling in my gut about reporting it. Who said it? My instincts and my instincts were rarely wrong.

"Why? This might be a lead to finding Natalie." said Lissa stubbornly.

I sighed. I hoped the Princess would understand. I remembered that I wasn't supposed to sigh, but I waved that off, promising that I would chastise myself for a whole hour if I did sigh again. "It's not about that." I said quietly and hid us behind a large tree. "Have there been any disappearing before your cousin's?" I asked as quietly as I could.

Lissa pursed her lips together, her face deprived of all expressions. "I don't want to talk about it."

I took that as a yes. "How many? Who were they?"

Lissa narrowed her green eyes at me, trying to look mean. "I said I didn't want to talk about it." she said defiantly.

"It's for the greater good, Lissa. Just. Tell. Me." I argued.

For a minute, I thought she wasn't going to answer, but after a few minutes of silence, she did. "There were some Academists who went MIA for the last few months. Their day was just a normal Academy day, and then they disappeared without a trace." murmured Lissa, her eyes darkening at the memory.

I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to be supportive, even though I couldn't appear as such. The only thing I could do to help was find the missing students. It was that simple…but missing for a few months? I don't really know if we—or rather I—still have hope in finding them, but when there's life, there's still hope.

"When did the disappearances start happening?" I asked, noting all the details of her story.

"It started about five months ago, I think. I can't really remember." Lissa scratched her head and leaned back on a tree, slouching. The slouch was uncharacteristic of her. Usually, she had her breast out, chin up, and stomach in, but now, she looked like a hunchback. "It's all muddled up. All the sorrow, you know. The Academists aren't happy of what's happening. How Academists keep disappearing without a trace. How we're not working hard enough to keep the Academy safe from intruders or possible escapees." She massaged her forehead and closed her eyes. She looked so bereft, I just wanted to hug her. But unfortunately, I had a more important and immediate job to do. I was about to do the thing I vowed to never do while I was inside the Academy.

I was about to call my father for help. He had said that the Academy was his alma mater, so let's just see where his loyalty lies.

"Don't worry, Liss, we'll find them. We'll find Natalie." I reassured her.

She laughed humorlessly. "It's not your obligation to find them, Rose. You still have your trainings to focus on." If she'd sounded more persuasive, I still wouldn't believe her.

I waved that off. "Pfft, trainings are nothing when lives are at stake."

"I think you already said that," she pointed out.

I waved that off, too. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm repeating things intentionally just to make you get the point."

She rolled her eyes, appearing more light-hearted now, but still distraught. "Okay, I get it. You're stubborn and nothing is going to stop you from doing what you want."

I smiled. "Just so you know, I always get what I want."

She didn't seem to get my innuendo, but at least she got my message. "Okay, I'll tell you everything. At least everything I know."

"Good," I commented.

She sighed. "Here goes nothing."

"It's not nothing, babe. Remember, lives are—"

"At stake here, I remember." Lissa finished for me, and then rolled her eyes at me again. I swear if she kept rolling her eyes, it'll get stuck there and never come back normally.

"I'm glad we understand each other. Now. Talk."

She did. Five or so minutes later, my head spun from it all.

"Let me check if I'm hearing things right. First, you lost an Academist more or less five months ago named—"

"Yalenchka Amaliji Smirnova," Lissa murmured. "Yeah, her. And then she was a what again?"

"She was a telekinetic being. One of the rare Academists. We searched for her for weeks, but there was no trace of her." The sadness in her tone was unmistakable. "Yeah, and then two weeks later, Katrina Almeida, a very pretty air fey, went MIA during our Homeroom."

"Yeah, and then the pattern comes and goes. There were no abduction after two weeks, but there was one after three weeks, right?"

"Yes, Marissa Pierce that time. She was a member of Morgana's inner-circle. Her father was like Morgana's father, a person high-ranked in the military, but she wasn't like Morgana at all. Marissa was…_fine_. Well-behaved. She wasn't an archer, unlike most of Morgana's friends, but she was an ice fey. Very rare. There are only seven of them left now."

I leaned my head back against a tree. "You set up guards and cameras, but by the next week, there was another abduction with no evidence, right? Cassandra Stone, a healer?"

Lissa nodded, tears brimming in her eyes again. "Yes. She was a good friend of mine," she said, her voice cracking.

I touched her arm gently and gave her a hug. It was uncharacteristic of me, I know, but I wanted to comfort Lissa. I felt good doing it. I let her cry then. I couldn't say anything like "we'll get them back" because I wasn't so sure if we'd get them back alive (I had a reason for just saying "find" and not "get" a while ago)—or if we'd even find them. But with my father's help, there was a big chance we'd find them.

And then…realization hit me. "Is it just me, or are all the Academists abducted all girls?" I asked all of a sudden. Lissa pulled back and sniffled.

"No, no. There was one guy. Jacob Black. He was a _therion_." I laughed loudly. Lissa held up her hand. "Don't get started with the Twilight thing. He wasn't a werewolf—he was a werelion." Her eyes said another thing, though. I could see the wonder there of how I knew about a "classic" movie about a human teenager and a vampire. Their love story had been bumpy, but it was good of how they got through it. I didn't like the Bella girl, though. I stopped laughing.

"Okay, continue,"

"He was abducted not so long ago. About two weeks ago."

"How many Academists went missing since the last few months?"

"I'll enumerate them for you. You count. Louella Infante, Katrina Almeida, Yalenchka, Marissa, Cassandra, Jenny, Ivana, Jacob, and Brooke. And now Natalie."

There were nine all in all. At the back of my head, I was computing for a possible pattern, but nothing came up. It was all mixed up, as if the days were picked randomly—almost carelessly. You can't exactly wait for three weeks, and then come back one week after you abducted. That was just pure sabotage. And maybe it was. Sabotage, I mean. Naybe they had inside sources—inside workers.

"Louella was a sorceress, right?" Lissa nodded. "Katerina, air elemental, Marissa, ice fey, Cassandra, healer, Yalenchka, telekinetic, Jenny, brainiac, Ivana, Eddie-wannabe, Jacob, _therion_, and Brooke, a supergirl. Gotcha. Is it just me or are the MIA people all have different species?"

Lissa straightened up at that. "You think this might lead to a pattern?"

I nodded. "I think so. Not in the time sense, but in the place or person-going-to-be-abducted sense. What was Natalie?"

"She was a dryad. Oh my God, no dryad was abducted before! Why Natalie, of all dryads?" My head spun at all possibilities.

Why Natalie, indeed.

"What does Natalie look like? Is she blonde like you? Redhead? Brunette?" She looked up at me and answered,

"She had jet-black hair. Green eyes like mine. She's on the timid side and doesn't get that much attention, but I guess you saw her yesterday in Armageddon. She usually helps the injured."

The slight recollection proved Lissa right. "Yeah, I think I saw her." I remembered seeing a girl with black hair giving a warrior something icky, wiping it on his wound. Her eyes lit up, but she didn't say anything. I stood up and tried my best to put on a happy-go-lucky smile on my face.

"So, what up with you and Christian?" Lissa smiled, clearly relieved of the change of mood. She told me everything, and I listened to her, but inside, I was reeling. Thinking of unknown answers.

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**The end of that chapter. So tell me what you think. ;-)**

**I'll be updating in not more than two weeks.**

**That's a promise.**

**Kate :D**


	23. Chapter 22

**As promised, I updated. :) This chapter is quite short, as you can see. But still, I hope you'll enjoy this one. I'm sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes or any kinds of mistakes. I haven't been able to proof-read this one.**

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**Chapter Twenty Two**

**1221T hours**

**12:21 PM, Montana Mountain, Mountain Daylight**

**Something was wrong, **I finally realized as I finished eating my lunch. Almost everyone in the room was awfully quiet, including the chatty Kristin. She picked at her peas restlessly, the sounds of her fork hitting the peas echoing in the silence. The Vessels, too, weren't around, which was unusual. For me, the new kid, anyway. Most of the people weren't on their seats, which meant they still hadn't eaten lunch.

Yeah, like I needed to point that out.

Anyway…whatever. My head's just spinning, which was making me a wee bit nauseous.

I shoved away my plate just as Lissa dropped her fork and sighed heavily.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sounding a little concerned.

Her shoulders drooped, emphasizing her emotions. She was distraught alright. "I don't want to eat. Not when my cousin is missing." she murmured and stood up quickly, making her chair tumble. Many heads poked up to see who made such a ruckus but when they saw Lissa, their heads dropped down, the sound of murmurs echoing in the room.

Lissa strode out of the cafeteria, her long limber legs moving rapidly. I would have followed her if I had the chance to, but even before I could stand up from my chair, she was completely gone and out of my sight.

I looked at my watch. It said it was 12:22 PM, meaning that I had thirty minutes left before the next class starts. I took that chance to do—or at least try to do—the greater good.

I ran out of the cafeteria and went to our cabin.

Three minutes of jogging toward the cabins, I ran into Mia halfway over there. I was just planning to acknowledge her with a smile and nod as I passed by, but she stopped me by putting herself on my way. I stopped automatically. She was lucky I didn't run her over.

"Sorry," she looked chagrined. She looked around the place as if waiting for someone to come out of the damned woods.

"Is there something wrong?" I felt my brows knot in confusion.

"Not really." She said indecisively, not looking into my eyes. She sighed, and seemed to gather her determination as I thought about what her problem might be. The only problem she had that I could think of was that maybe one of the kidnapped Academists were close to her, or she needed me to exterminate a red-haired-someone with my awesome new skills. I expected she'd ask the latter, although why I thought about that was beyond me.

"It's about my dad." Her answer took me by surprise.

"Oh," The memory of her talking impulsively about her father back in Homeroom suddenly flooded my mind. His dad was captured by reinforcements for doing illegal deeds. That included smuggling and working as an apprentice for the black market. Such deeds were seen as offensive as far as my father's workers are concerned, so that may be the reason why her father got arrested. Okay, she said it herself, that _is_ why her father got thrown to jail. "I remember. What about it?"

She sighed again and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I don't really know where to start, but I need to clear some things up. I was drunk last night, I didn't know what I said…or maybe I did. Some of them, at least. And I remember telling some of you about my father. That he's locked up. But, crap, that's not the point!" she shoved her hands in her jean pockets in exasperation.

The girl was confused and nervous the way her eyes keep darting around the place. I didn't know what she could be nervous of. It was just me. Or maybe there was someone else…most probably a kidnapper….

Damn, I am sooo paranoid, but better to be safe than sorry, right?

With my detective eyes, I searched for the place, something out of place like the one on the Camouflage at Therion Territory. As far as I could tell, there was nothing and no one around the place. Maybe Mia was just nervous talking about her dad. I stopped looking around, but refused to let my guard down. I tensed my muscles as if waiting for someone to pounce on me.

"You see…" Mia continued, "I never knew what he was doing before he was arrested, and the men who caught him announced his faults. I was so devastated to just have heard that, my father and I were really close, you know. We tell everything to each other. The absence of my mom didn't help that either. My mom just died three months before dad got arrested." Her eyes watered, remembering those times she had to endure the pain of losing everything you had. "I just turned seventeen then, and they had to send me to a reformatory—Goodwill in Arizona—because of what my parents did, and maybe I'd do in the future."

They sent tiny Mia to a reformatory? How the fuck did this happen? If I only knew that they sent and innocent girl to a reformatory school, I would have done the best I could to stop it.

I felt the urge to punch somebody.

A tear escaped from her eye, and she wiped it away with a disdainful snort. I don't know why, but I just knew that she didn't like crying.

"I was locked up in that fucking infirmary for one year. I was beaten repeatedly. They always cursed and teased me about my height. Some of the girls were just jealous of me, but I didn't know why they'd be. And…" I could almost feel her heart constrict as one memory overflowed her mind. She closed her eyes, and held her breath, willing herself to stay strong and not cry.

"And I was raped. Three times."

I felt dizzy. I never knew this. How could I not fucking know that some fucked up reformatory workers weren't doing their job and keeping the people there disciplined? Rape—no matter what situation, I always shuddered at that word. Rape is a violation. Rape is abuse. Rape is every fuckin' bad deed one could do to a girl. No less, rape in a reformatory? I thought reformatories existed to help fucked up people? Instead, they're just making their situations worse.

I was going to report this to my father, whether he liked it or not.

"He was a worker there at the reformatory. I never knew his name, never saw his face. He kept me blindfolded after he'd catch me unaware. I was weak then, I never knew how to stop him, but when the third rape happened, I just snapped ran as far as I could. The memories just start to blur there. I remember jumping into a stream when I heard hounds running after me, and _him_ calling me. Something hit my head hard, and then when I woke up, I was here in the Academy."

Mia let out a breath and looked up, relieved. "I just need you to understand that the Academy saves lives, and these kidnappings happening now is a blasphemy. We need your help. With these kidnappings still on, it's going to turn out like the reformatory."

And I thought this was about her father. Guess I assumed wrong.

"Yes, the kidnappings…" was all I could say. My head was still spinning from the information.

"We need to stick together," she told me and caught my hand, holding it between hers and squeezing it tightly. She sure was stronger than she looked. "We're family here, despite some misunderstandings. Morgana's a bitch, but we have no choice—we're still family."

"Yeah. One big fucked up family." I smiled at my dry wit.

She laughed. "I agree. One big effed up family."

She patted my arm, and let go, waving. Before she could disappear around the bend, I called her.

"Hey, Mia!"

"Yeah?" she looked back.

"What was your father's name?"

Her face scrunched up. "Why do you want to know?"

I shrugged, appearing convincingly disinterested. "Idle curiosity,"

She shook her head at me with a small smile. "It's Joshua. Joshua Rinaldi."

I gave her a grin. "Thanks," with that, I jogged towards the cabins again. Nothing stopped me on my way now, and another minute later, I was inside the cabin. I scoured on my things and found my small, decrepit netbook. I loved my netbook, no matter how old and slow it was.

I remembered promising myself to never contact the outside world after I got inside here, but it was just inevitable. But first things first.

I opened my father's agency's criminal reports, and searched Joshua Rinaldi.

What I saw surprised me.

* * *

**Cliff-hanger. Who is Joshua Rinaldi? Why does Rose care so much about Mia's past? What is up with those missing Academists? Are the mysteries ever going to end?**

**I will update, don't worry. Less than two weeks?**


	24. Chapter 23

**I'm sorry for not updating much earlier; I was very preoccupied with writing DDG again. I know that's no excuse and I should have kept my promise to update after two weeks prior. And to the ones who didn't know that I'm writing Drop Dead Gorgeous again, I AM! I'll be also updating a Special Chapter for it as soon as I'm done writing! I also plan on changing WLS's preview summary, but it won't change the plot. I just want to make it look fancier, you know. Hahaha.  
**

**MAAYONG PAGBASA!**

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**Chapter Twenty Three**

**1244T hours**

**12:44 PM; Living Quarters, Cabin 6, Column 6**

So, Joshua Rinaldi was part of a Russian mob, huh. Oh, scratch that, he was one of the three "bosses" of the infamous foreign organizatsiya. Joshua was one hell of a grafter, and even had his own empire until he was caught in one of his shipment that took place in Florida.

It was really a wonder why Joshua didn't rank in politics. But then again, not all rich people could touch the magic of being a good politician, even through illegal deeds. I guess there still is a silver lining in the midst of the darkness.

With a quick check of his bank account before he got sent to prison told me that he and Mia's family had some money in hand. Even I whistled out at the amount. They were filthy rich. I checked parole for Joshua, but the court gave him no such mercy. The Ethics (or the judges) had been cruel to him. Thirty to life in Tartarus. He might as well kill himself—I've been to Tartarus, and it was a place where nightmares were created. It could _at least_ be called hell there.

With more snooping around, I learned that Yilmaz—and maybe to an extent, me—was in charge with the case.

My face scrunched up involuntarily. I never knew anything about this case. If I had, I would have instantly recognized the name Joshua Rinaldi.

For a moment, I wondered why this was, and then, it hit me. It was pretty obvious to me before that Yilmaz had been working on a case without my knowledge, and I was working on my own case then, but I never thought that it could be this big to make me feel so restless. I was furious at Yilmaz for a moment, and managed to calm myself. I didn't blame him. He was…_impaired._ He made bad judgments, like other people. But stil…_fuck._ He's such an idiot.

I quickly shoved the feeling of restlessness away, and closed Joshua's criminal reports.

Just as I closed it, I heard somebody walk up the cabin's steps with slow, almost persistent movement.

My instincts kicked in and I stepped in a corner of the room just in time the door opened up, revealing a slim shadowy figure standing on the doorway. I couldn't see who the person was; it was hard to see, considering the sudden flash of sunlight showering in the room. All I could see was the side of the person's clothes, which was similar to a military uniform, only with glowing neon arrows on the sides of it. It was an unusual uniform, but I'm sure that I've seen uniforms like those. I just couldn't put a finger where or when I did.

The person's body language ranged from rigidity to hostility, and right in front of my eyes, the person lifted his hand.

And there, on his hand, was a sharp-edged obsidian knife clasped between his glove-clad fingers. The obsidian gleamed a little, but it didn't give me time to contemplate the things about to happen.

But there was one thing I was sure of. That knife was going to be flying to somewhere in the room.

I just hoped that my luck hadn't run out, and I wouldn't be the target.

As fast as a bullet, the knife was flew, and landed steadily on one of the bed's headboard.

_My_ bed's headboard.

Colorful words were hissed by me as the door closed with a very loud bang.

Leaving nothing out of my energy and adrenaline, I ran toward my bed, and to the knife. I hadn't noticed that there was also a paper left with the knife. Just a scratch of paper with an all caps-block writing.

The message gave me the chills, but didn't in the least frighten me.

There were only two words:

_You're next_

As fast as the knife, I ran toward the door, nearly running it over, and jumped down the stairs. With quick eyes, I looked for the person who was just inside the cabin. I caught sight of the uniform and swiftly ran to the person.

With a sudden gust of my breath, my blood fleetingly boiled, and it seemed like my senses went into overdrive. It seemed like I could see everything, hear everything, feel everything, smell everything.

Before I knew it, the sudden pulse of power was gone, and I was tackling the person wearing the stupid quasi-military uniform, and my jaw had just been elbowed painfully by that same person I'd just tackled to the ground.

"Get off me you overweight bitch! Fucking heavy!" The voice sounded eerily familiar with that same irritated/angry tone I've always heard in here. Though the voice was cognizant for me, I still couldn't seem to put a name for the owner of the voice. But definitely, it was a girl's.

I pinned the girl's arms to her sides to subdue the strength I didn't know girls have. But gosh, I'm such a sexist. Anyway, I exerted a lot of energy just trying to keep the girl from hitting me again. I would be lying if I said I was doing a really good job at it.

One of her legs bent swiftly, kicking me hard on my butt.

_Ow_, I thought. I never knew getting literally kicked on the butt hurt that much.

With a grunt, I tried subduing her legs, but she was too fast. She flipped us over and she was on top of me, her hair that was piled inside her hat spilled out, revealing ginger and auburn strands of long, wavy hair. The eyes of the intruder were unmistakably electric blue, now that nothing was covering her features. And her face…oh, that face of an avenging angel should have taken my breath away, but it didn't. It just made my stomach turn in an uncomfortable way, and made me regret why I hadn't tackled her harder.

I knew exactly who this was. Just my worst nemesis, that's all.

With a scornful glare, she punched me hard on my face.

Pain. Fucking pain and anger coursed through my very veins that moment and nothing could stop my hand from curling into a fist and punching her back with God only knows how many volts of electricity fired with it.

She let out an ugly scream as she rolled on her back, a shocked look plastered on her face. I was not surprised that she didn't look the least bit pained of my hit. She was a real warrior, I'd give her that.

I didn't give her a chance to react after that, so I quickly stood up. I loomed before her pale, nearly lifeless, body. When I finished mentally congratulating myself for a job well done of restraining Morgana, I looked at her face. She was sweating like a mug with cold water.

I crouched down next to her. "Were you threatening me?" I asked incredulously.

Her electric blue eyes spat deep embers of cobalt at me. "I don't threaten people." I would have believed her if she didn't just stab a "threat" note on my bed's headboard.

I rolled my eyes. That seemed to make her madder because she turned an ugly shade of beet red, and struggled against me. My hold on her was, maybe, too strong because I saw her wince slightly. I didn't budge and loosen my hold at her obvious pained expression.

"Oh, so what do you call that note you pinned so nicely against my bed's headboard?"

If Morgana was less civilized than what she was already, I would bet you a hundred Euros that she'd spit at me.

"That was just a message to keep you behaved." She growled in front of my face.

I wasn't intimidated. In fact, I was a little boggled at her antic. I mean, who could be that stupid to do such a thing as warn a person that she's next to be kidnapped? That was just plain…lame.

"Morgana, you are disturbed." I made an internal note to check up on her on Deirdre's files if she had some sort of mental incapability. Seriously, she was probably missing half her brain.

"I am not crazy!" Morgana seemed very adamant at that.

Okay, maybe calling her "disturbed" wasn't such a good idea. I cautiously moved my head farther away from her, but still held her down.

"Okay," I said in an awkwardly soothing voice. "So, what do you call this?" I asked her, holding the piece of paper in front of her. "Morgana, this is way beyond stupid. This is dumb! We make records of people in 2057 whom are all officially dumb—but you! An heiress? I mean, didn't you see this coming? That, if ever I wasn't inside the cabin to catch you putting this there, I'd tell the Headmistress about this supposed threat? And they'd give me protection or be more cautious? Or have your prints scanned here?" The incredulity made me a little incapable of a formal speech about her regressed knowledge. It was probably the cause of stress.

So, I was a doctor now? Go figure.

For a moment, she was quiet. Her eyes searched mine for a moment, and then, making me more incredulous, she laughed. A loud joyful laugh like she'd just seen the best joke in her life. And then, surprising me again, she stopped, staring into my eyes with such heat that I flinched back.

"Oh, Rose. Can't you see it?" she asked, her eyes wide. "You try to be cool and assess me, when in fact, you don't even have one inkling what I'm thinking! I'm sure that a girl with _your_ status would _never_ understand mine—a true warrior. Much less an heiress!"

With a quick shove, she pushed me away from her. I stumbled back, but quickly got hold of my footing. She stood up tall, towering over me in a supposed menacing way.

"Can't you see it, Rose?"

"Yeah, apparently, I can't because you keep asking me the same question." I wanted to answer, but held my tongue.

"I'm the one who's going push you down that stairs of fame you're trying so hard to climb. No matter what you do or achieve, you will _never_ be like me. Understand?" She emphasized by pointing at me. I didn't mind being pointed at all, because, as what my father says, "the rest of the fingers are pointing back to himself." In this case, it was herself.

I gave her a hard smile, but it was nothing close to a smile, I could feel. It was more of a grimace.

"Get over yourself," I said and walked out.

No matter how much Morgana tried to take the upper hand, I always got the last laugh. Sometimes, I felt sorry for her. Sometimes.

* * *

**So, what **_**is **_**Morgana's glitch? Why is she so mean to Rose? Do you think she has something to do with the kidnappings? And—another thing—what happened to Yilmaz? Has he finally found his way to the loony bin?**

**Questions in reviews or PMs will be answered! And I will try to update sooner!  
**

**xOxO,**

**Katya**


	25. Chapter 24

**Didn't you ever notice that the Rose here is too uptight? Well, there is a reason behind that, and you will be seeing a lot of the sarcastic and juvenile Rose now. Some will also grow horns—Comrade-wise.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Twenty Four**

**1505T hours**

**3:05 PM; Woods, St. Vladimir's Academy**

**I skipped Armageddon to catch up with the Vessels. **Lissa had been all over the place lately, and I couldn't stand watching her so restless. I, too, felt restless, knowing that I could help them, but I still didn't make a move. It had only been 24 hours since Natalie was last seen, and by that (on the outside world), there would have been an official statement that she was missing and needed to be searched with utmost scrutiny.

In the last two hours, I have learned that Natalie was the daughter of Victor Dashkov, the heir of the late Prince Trenton Dashkov of Bulgaria. Before he was officially crowned as ruler of their land, Victor died from a mysterious and rare death that ceased his respiratory system to work, and continually pump oxygen to his brain. It was too late to resuscitate him when he was found in his chambers. It was rumored that his body was preserved, but I knew better. Victor Dashkov's body was cremated. I knew this because I've been to this supposed cremation. Just the usual "hanging out with dad's pimps" business. At that time, I had no idea who or what that ceremony was about. I just thought that it awful and inhumane to burn one's body in front of so many people.

And of course, I thought of that because that happened almost twelve years ago.

_And_, usually, I wouldn't remember this, but I got extra information from father's database, so no misinformation there.

Natalie's mother had died at childbirth, and she had no siblings—which drives me nuts with the fact that she had no direct relative that I could ask where she might go or do an automatic DNA search. I had tried asking Lissa questions, but she equally had no idea where Natalie might go.

I lengthened my pace toward the temples, and couldn't help but doubt my motives. Was I doing this for the thrill of the hunt, or just out of pure selflessness? I knew the answer.

When I was midway through the woods to the temples, I heard a branch snap at my just behind me.

I let my instincts win me over and switched into battle mode, executing a textbook-perfect back kick to the intruder. The intruder smoothly avoided and restrained my kick.

"Rose, it's me," the person behind me said in an oddly surprised tone.

I looked back at the giant hooded figure behind me and let out a breathy laugh.

"I figured you'd be at your temple, worshipping your god." I remarked.

His eyes darkened. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

I crossed my arms over my chest at his tone. "I need your help. I need _both_ of your help." I said with pleading eyes.

He looked into my eyes, and, for a moment, I thought I saw surprise flash there. Finally, he asked, "Is this about the abductions?"

I made a face. "Uh, no, it's me being pregnant with your love child." I said, sarcasm dripping off my voice perfectly. "Of course it's about the abductions!" I waved my arms in emphasis.

Amusement, genuine and flickering, crossed his features. "You want our help in finding the missing Academists." It was not a question.

"Yes,"

"We are bound to not interfere with earthly occurrences." His face said nothing, but his eyes—oh, those dark eyes—it dared me. _He_ was daring me to do something.

"I don't believe that shit of a rule. With you living in this place, who knows what things you've already done with us, earthlings."

He opened his mouth, about to say something, but I stopped him by holding up my hand.

"_And_, I'm certain that you'd find a way to help us find those missing Academists." I finished with a small grin. "'Cause, you know what'll happen if you won't." I added darkly, staring deep into his eyes.

A small, almost unnoticeable, smile tilted his lips and softened his hard features.

"Do you have a plan?" asked Dimitri.

"You bet I have,"

"Then let's do it, then." he said, but didn't move.

"Before we do that, I need you to promise something," I didn't let hesitation doubt my final decision.

He inclined his head in agreement.

"I want you to swear secrecy," I told him.

"I give you my word." was his reply.

For me, his word was a good enough compromise.

**1515T hours**

**3:15 PM; Poseidon's Temple, St. Vladimir's Academy**

**Ten minutes later, I have acquired a disposable cell phone.**

I walked toward Dimitri on the altar. "Heads up," I warned as I tossed him the phone.

He caught it with ease and looked at the phone with an unsurprised expression. He looked at me, his eyebrow cocked up on one side. "Why am I not surprised that you have a Phone-Card-Phone in hand?"

I shrugged, slightly feeling lightheaded at what I was about to do. I have never thought that I'd tell anybody about my origins, but I guess secrets really are bound to come out. "Maybe it's because of my awesomeness?" I suggested with a grin. "You must be so dumb not to notice that." I added with a chiding look.

There was that unpracticed smile again. It looked like Dimitri hasn't been doing much smiling lately, the way the smile awkwardly tipped his lips. His eyes, those dark, dark eyes held a pensive yet amused look. Lately, those expressions seemed to dominate his face whenever I was near. I didn't know why that was, but I originally figured that Dimiitri wasn't the type to be amused easily. And that rendering him amused was unheard of or just very, very rare.

"Did you know that you're the only one who has ever dared talking to me like that?" he asked in that pensive tone.

"What, you expect me to go all "oh, holy Vessel-I-must-fear-you-for-you-have-godly-powers-which-we-cannot-comprehend" you like the others?" I asked with my hand on my chest, looking incredulous. "Don't hold your breath."

I got a rusty laugh from him. I don't know why but there was just something about his laugh that made me feel special. I mean, yeah, from a guy with his status, I guess making him laugh was a good thing…but there was just something else. Something I didn't really want to delve deeper into, but still desire to do so.

He shook his head, his long dark hair spilling out at the front of his face. I found myself admiring at those wavy strands of hair that haloed his face like a dark veil. He looked much better without the hood that covered his face like a perpetual dark cloud. Well, honestly? I thought Dimitri was hot. Not that that mattered, Dimitri could pass as my grandfather with his age now. It's been said that he and Adrian were here before the great storm.

That thought disturbed me a little. Since when did number become such a big deal to me? I shrugged that thought off with half-hearted disdain.

"No." he said softly, looking at me with a perplexed look. "That is what makes you unique, Rose." And then, he looked up into my eyes, that same small, unpracticed smile playing on his lips. "You do not easily bow down to anyone. You have strong will and a very good determination. Very few people are that strong-willed. Especially these days."

I was surprised that he could utter such touching words. And I was even more surprised that I was surprised by just mere words. It was preposterous in some way.

We fell into sound silence for a moment, but then I decided to break it.

"Anyway, let's get back to business."I said, all business now. I straightened myself up, and hoisted my small messenger bag up my shoulder.

He nodded, saying, "Of course," with his usual no-nonsense tone.

I was a little disappointed at the loss of the warmth of the moment, but I convinced myself that there were more pressing matters that we have to attend to.

I extracted my netbook from the bag and started to turn it on when Dimitri said something about the signal.

I looked up at him. "Pardon me?"

"You know there's no reception here, right?"

_Right._ I bit my lip hard. I should have known that there was no signal in this god-forsaken place.

"How do you contact the people outside then?" I asked him curiously.

"We send out couriers to mail recruits HaloPads. Didn't they send you a HaloPad with a recruitment note from the Headmistess?"

Now I remembered. I nodded. "They did." I was the one who became pensive now. "So, where can we get just a wee reception in this place?"

He was quiet for a moment. I looked at him, and saw that he was looking at me with a knowing look on his face. "Actually, it's not a matter of where we can get reception, but it's a matter of who can create a signal for us."

"So who can make a signal?" I asked, impatient.

"You, of course."

I laughed hard. "Please, you gotta be kidding me."

"It's true. You just don't know where your capabilities lay, Rose."

I stopped laughing at his serious tone. "Okay, so how can I do that?"

"The Academy is a dead zone, so we cannot transmit to any cell site or base station nearby, but it doesn't mean that we cannot create our own. _You_ have the power to manipulate electricity, which means that there is big chance that you may be able to create your own radio waves." He explained more about radio waves, and how this can help us on our job at hand. "All you need is a base station—or just a very tall tower—and then try to tap into any signal which can sustain you for your lone signal."

"Aren't we tapping from other cell networks when we do that?" But my real question was, isn't that illegal?

He shook his head. "No, but you're just letting the signal guide you so that you can make your own signal. Understood?"

I nodded hesitantly. "Kind of,"

"Let's try," We walked toward the nearest tower. It was just in front of the temple so we didn't have to walk quite long.

"This," he gestured to the very tall tower. "is you base station."

I looked up, and up, and up at the tower and just marveled at its imperial height. I was a little intimidated at what I was about to do, but I needed to do this. For Lissa. For the Academy.

I put a hand on the building and looked back at Dimitri. His face was withdrawn, his eyes darker than usual. "What do I do now?"

He surprised me by raising his hand, sweeping back my short dark hair. He seemed surprised at his own actions too, but didn't detach himself like he always does.

"First," he murmured close to my ear. I shivered when his fingers touched the skin on my neck. I felt a little cracking on my fingers and noticed that they were excited electrical charges. "You have to prepare yourself for the initial shock the powers will give you." He said, and pulled his hand away. The over-excited electrical charges on my fist died out. "It will be slightly painful, but you'll live."

I shrugged. "I can handle a little pain."

Dimitri smiled a little. "Maybe I underestimated it. It will be very painful. Your body will absorb the shock of the power surge, but from your astonishing stunt on your first day, I highly doubt that you'd fail this meager task."

Wow, he just called making your own cell base station _meager_.

I nodded in agreement. "I've been through worse."

"So I've heard," he mumbled cryptically and took a backward step, gesturing at the tower again. "You may begin."

The hand that lay on the tower felt really hollow and cold. The charges on the tower were dormant which made it a lot easier for me to arouse the charges. Once I directed my powers to it, they stirred with delight and went at it like bouncy and giddy children. I laughed at my strange analogy, but there were no other words I could describe them with.

I smiled at this improvement, but it still wasn't enough. I tried expanding the charged atoms upward with little success. A minute later of trying, I opened my eyes and took a look at Dimitri. He was still standing where I had last seen him—eyes dark and body language intimidating.

"Any problem?" he asked me, his voice a deep quiet Russian rumble.

I nodded and wiped the trickling sweat away from my face. "There's too much pressure. I can't—I can't concentrate." My voice sounded strained. I didn't like it.

His eyes softened. Maybe I just imagined it. "It's okay," he stepped closer to me, and put his hands on my shoulder. I stiffened at his touch, in spite of the way it made me relax. His touch felt like relaxing chamomile tea on a very stressful day. Like a tub of warm water after a very cold blizzard.

"You just need to relax. Let your inner self free, and let the powers control you for once."

"I hate being controlled. I faint every time I let them to." And Deirdre taught me better. Absently, I cracked my neck when I felt that it was too tense.

"Don't worry; I'm going to be here if you'll fall." I felt him lean in, feeling the warm breath of his mouth, smelling the intoxicating scent of his aftershave.

Suddenly, in a rapid surge of power, I felt a stroke of electricity go through me. It rendered me paralyzed at the shock of it, but it didn't give much of a shock as I have expected. At the back of my brain, I rejoiced at the fact that it had worked. When I could move again, I looked back at Dimitri with wide eyes.

"What was that?" I asked breathlessly.

"A spark," he said with an elusive expression. His eyes sparkled with hidden playfulness.

I wanted to ask what kind of spark, but before I could, he looked away and looked at the small disposable phone on his hand. "One bar," he showed the screen to me.

Surprisingly, there was one bar at the edge of the screen, indicating that I had succeeded making my own base station.

I snorted.

"Something wrong?"

"Yes, there is." I said. "One bar is not enough. I can do better than that."

With new-found determination, I closed my eyes again and let the charges flow into my body, into my mind…into my subconscious where they perpetually lay in wait for its time to be released. It was like the night I was hit by lightning again.

My brain and body was brutally attacked by charges in continuous and painful blows. I felt my body going into a violent seizure, and I was sure that there was a blitzkrieg going on inside my body. Dimitri was right—it was really painful, but I had too much pride in me to show that. My mind went apeshit, and with an audible snap, my control snapped and the powers consumed me whole.

Goodbye control-freak Rose Mazur, and hello Rose Hathaway.

I was aware of my body falling to the ground, but I was doubly aware of Dimitri catching me before I'd hit face-first on the dirty soil. In a painfully slow manner, I opened my eyes and smiled.

"My hero," I murmured and fought off the urge to close my eyes.

He looked absolutely breathtaking by the way his hair stumbled carelessly on his face. His eyes were flooded with concern. Wow, he was concerned for me. That was…

I a sudden burst of awareness, I noticed that I was being carried by him towards the temple. I quickly jumped out of his grasp, but he was too fast and was restraining me before I could make a move.

"You need to rest, Rose. You've been through much today."

"Hell yeah, I've been through much." I started prying off his hands as best as I could, but he wouldn't budge. "Let me go, or I'm shouting! Help!"

He covered my mouth. "Now, now, no need to call for reinforcements. Surely, you don't want Adrian's zombies to swarm up on us, do you?" his tone was chiding, as if he was talking to a child, and not an adult.

I slapped his hand away and jumped in his arms, effectively throwing us off-balance. Dimitri stumbled on his feet, not expecting the action from me and I landed on the ground ass-first.

"Shit," I clutched my bottom as much as I could. That drop fucking hurt, but I guess it was my fault. But hell, I couldn't resist wanting to blame Dimitri for it.

"Hey, Comrade, why did you drop me?"

His expression was a comical mix of confusion and amusement. "Why did _you _jump?"

My eyes widened. "I did _not_!"

He shook his head, smiling. "You did."

I refused to admit that I did. "No, you dropped me!"

His eyes narrowed. "I didn't."

"You did!"

"I did."

"You didn't." I said, and then covered my mouth.

Dimitri's laughter was a rich yet rusty sound. "I win," he declared, and helped me up.

I stuck a tongue out to him. "You're a cheater, Comrade." I mumbled and saw the phone on his hand already had flickering bars, alternating from four to five. I did a happy dance then.

"I did it! I made my own cellular base station, Comrade! How cool is that?"

Dimitri shook his head at me. "Your bizarre change of moods never fails to amaze me, _Roza_."

I looked at him questioningly. "_Roza_? What's that?"

"_Comrade?_" He mimicked my tone. "What's that?"

I debated whether I should stick my tongue out to him again. I decided it was better to flip him off rather than pry the info out of him. I was quite sure he wasn't about to spill the beans. But come to think of it, the name he just called me sounded quite familiar. Only with much less definition on the R's.

"Come on," he called, gesturing me towards the tower. "Let's call and get this over with."

I took the phone from him and dialed the fifteen-digit number that only I knew. I pressed call, and handed Dimitri the phone. I didn't want to be the one wanting help from my father. I wanted somebody important in the Academy seeking help from him.

I heard my father's Turkish rumble in the phone.

Dimitri's eyes widened in recognition. "Ibrahim Mazur," it wasn't a question, but a statement of fact.

Another rumble from the other line. "This is Dimitri Belikov," With a "wait here" gesture, he walked off with the phone, mumbling something in a language that wasn't English or Turkish.

In what seemed like forever, Dimitri came back to the tower, where I was waiting impatiently.

"I'm surprised that you're still waiting here and not eavesdropping like I originally thought."

"Yeah, well, I thought it was better not to eavesdrop, whatever that means."

He shook his head in amusement.

"Did you destroy the phone?" I asked.

"I did,"

"So, what's the plan?"

"He'll be here as soon as possible. He will bring a couple of his specialist, and they will help us find the missing Academists. Hopefully, they will try and catch the culprit too."

I sensed that he was not telling the whole truth, but I brushed it off.

"How do you know Ibrahim Mazur?" I asked him bluntly.

"He's an acquaintance." His eyes sparkled with interest. "How do _you_ know Ibrahim Mazur?"

_Right_. I shrugged. "An acquaintance, too."

His face was expressionless. "An acquaintance wouldn't have his personal number."

What was that expression I saw flash through his eyes as fast as lightning?

I gave him a crooked smile. "I have my sources."

He lips tilted into a not very nice smile. "Sure you do."

"Are you mocking me?" I asked incredulously.

"I do not mock people, Rose."

"Sure you don't."

It was his turn to ask if I was mocking him.

"I do not mock people, Comrade." I mimicked his Russian accent. It was quite horrible, I tell you.

He barked out a laugh and shook his head. "_Roza,_" There was it again. That name.

"Won't you ever tell me what that means?"

He looked at me, his expression still withdrawn. "Not if you tell me your relationship with the Mazur clan. Ibrahim Mazur, specifically.

"Fine," I sighed, looking like I've given up. "I used to work for him." It was half the truth, but still, it was the truth.

"In what house do you work for him?"

"No house. I used to be a receptionist in his agency. And you know, we became really good friends. And I mean _really, really_ good friends." I wiggled my eye brows at him.

His eyes narrowed at the implication. "You should know better than to get tangled with a man like him, Rose. He's dangerous." His tone lost its previous tone, now phasing into a hard and strained one.

My lips twitched. I wanted to laugh so badly, but I couldn't. "Really."

"I am serious, _Roza_."

"Oh, and before I forget! What does that mean? C'mon, Comrade. A deal's a deal. What does _Roza _mean?"

He sighed wearily, and combed his hands though his hair. "It's your name in Russian."

I didn't know why, but just knowing that I had a nickname from Dimitri made me feel special.

I smiled. "Thanks for finally telling me."

I called out a "ciao" and walked away, leaving him there on my cell tower.

I still couldn't believe that I've made one. I should thank Dimitri for that.

I ran back to Dimitri and hugged him.

He stiffened at this sudden gesture, but relaxed. The way he relaxed was barely noticeable, but the way he put his arms awkwardly on the small of my back indicated that he accepted and appreciated the gesture.

"Thanks for teaching me, Comrade. We should do that more often." I murmured, and broke into a sprint as soon as he released me. I didn't hear his answer, but I knew that I wouldn't give him a chance to refuse me.

* * *

**So, how did you find Rose? Better? Bad? Still too uptight? And ooooh! Dimitri just started calling her Roza! Nosyet? LOL  
**

**Tell me what you think!**

**xoxo,**

**Katya**


	26. Chapter 25

**This chapter is very short, and I updated this now because I'm in a writing craze. I assure you that the next chapter I'm going to update will be very long. Like 5k words long. Anyway, I hope you'll like this small teaser chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Richelle Mead, except the plot and other people that weren't in VA. I assure you that I'm not gaining any profit from this story, and nothing will be copied from this without my express permission. The plot is original, and so are the other characters. If you stumble upon an Odessa Alvarico in a local dental clinic, then she may be my dentist. Some characters are real-life people, and I have their permission to use their name and identity, so no need to sue me.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-five**

**1654 T hours**

**04:54 PM; Late Afternoon Light, St. Vladimir's Academy**

**When I finally made my way out of the woods with my plan almost in motion, **I was nearly run over by a couple of werebeings. One of them was, I noticed, Ara, the lynx. I couldn't speak or understand therion language, but I was sure that their tones were annoyed.

One of the wolves howled, and it didn't take Jean Paul, the giant of a man he is, to dash out of the bushes, his eyes a scary shade of pale green and fangs out. I didn't know what kind of therion he was, but he was undoubtedly shit-ass scary. He looked like the Hulk without the green skin. He was shirtless, exposing every bit of his skin over pure muscle. I would have been impressed by his show of prowess if he didn't look so goddamn frightening.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I stepped back from him before he could run over me.

He looked at me, and, for a moment, I saw the intensity of animal glare there before recognition flashed on his face.

"Hardaway," he said through his fangs, and his eyes lightened into the normal light brown of his eyes.

"It's Hathaway, not Hardaway," I said, more annoyed than scared now. How could he not get my name right?

Before I could protest, he enveloped me in a hug so tight I had to punch him on the back before he let me go.

"What the hell?" I yelled at him, and regretted it when a hurt look crossed his face. "Ugh, I'm sorry, but I'm just not used to PDA." I apologized, and he smiled, all the hurt gone.

"Where have you been?" I recognized Ara's voice. I looked at her and expected my eyes to burn at her nudity, but she had a dirty rag of a towel wrapped around her skinny form. Her russet-colored eyes scrutinized me relentlessly. "We've been looking for you everywhere! We thought you've been kidnapped. Bitch, we nearly went out that fucking Camouflage to find you!"

I shot her a funny look at the way the words went out of her mouth awkwardly. "Grandma, what accent you have." I commented with a grimace-like smile.

"This is no time for jokes, Hathaway," she snarled, her sharp teeth bared at me.

Jean Paul, the nice guy he was, calmed Ara down with just one hush. Ara held her ground by just glaring at me with her menacing eyes. Jean Paul said something about me being kidnapped and that almost all Academists were in supposed "panic" because of my disappearance.

I shot him an apologetic look. "I wasn't kidnapped." No shit, Sherlock. "I just got lost in the woods."

Ara snorted from behind me, but said nothing.

"Really?" Jean looked perplexed at this. "Because my team swore that they searched every nook and cranny in those woods." He frowned, looking confused.

I shrugged, trying to look convincing at my lie. "Who would have seen me? The forest is a really big place, let alone the whole Academy."

For a moment, I swear I saw suspicion flash before his eyes, but it was gone just as soon as it appeared. He shrugged and, with a smile, announced that he'd tell everybody that my disappearance was a false alarm. He bounded off and disappeared.

"Jean might take your shit, but I don't." Ara said all of a sudden, the venom in her voice as evident as the hostility in her eyes was when I looked back at her.

I didn't faze. "What are you talking about?" The annoyed tone came with its own accord.

She stepped toward me in a menacing way. Oh, geez, was it "Be Mean to Rose Hathaway Day" today? What's up with people wanting to rough me up?

"I might not know that you have something to do with these kidnappings, but I know that you're holding information back from us." She stepped toward me again, and when I didn't step back, we were nearly nose to nose. I was a taller than her, so her eyes were leveled with my nose.

"If ever I'll discover that you have something to do with these kidnappings, I swear to God that I'd be the first one to rip you apart." I wouldn't have doubted that she could if she wasn't so skinny and small to tear a three-inch wood, let alone a person. But despite the incredulity that I felt at her threat, something in her eyes told me that she was capable of much more than that. Somehow, I didn't doubt her power.

"My family has been through enough, and I'm not just going to let anyone waltz around to destroy everything we've created." With one last dirty look for me, she changed into lynx form and disappeared the way Jean had been.

It took me more than a minute to realize that by "family," she meant the Academists.

* * *

**Wow, Ara is so mean. But so nice. :D**

**What's a filler chapter? I'm really quite ignorant at this stuff.**

**Reviews make me happy.**


	27. Chapter 26

**I just finished reading some awesome fanfics :D Amazing doesn't even cut it. Ms. Belikov is my new favorite author :D You should read her stories :D**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Richelle Mead, except the plot and other people that weren't in VA. I assure you that I'm not gaining any profit from this story. Nothing will be copied from this without my express permission. The plot is original, and so are the other characters. If you stumble upon an Odessa Alvarico in a local dental clinic, then she may be my dentist. Some characters are real-life people, and I have their permission to use their name and identity, so no need to sue me.**

* * *

**Chapter 26  
**

**1922 T hours**

**07:22 PM; Living Quarters, Cabin 6, Column 6**

**The four of us, Lissa, Kristin, Kendall and I, were getting ready for the next day to come.** The day hadn't been easy for Lissa, nor was it for me. The Academists kept sending me random looks as if they thought I had something to do with the disappearances. I actually didn't blame them. If I were in their shoes, I would have been suspicious too.

From the start, Kendall and I weren't best of friends, much more now after my supposed "false alarm" disappearance. The whole time I was fixing my short hair, she kept scrutinizing me in the mirror, probably trying to guess what my next move was.

I gave her a sweet smile through the mirror. She narrowed her eyes at me and looked away.

Good move on her part, I thought. I never really liked it when someone stared at me too much. This day for me had been equally shitty as her gaze. Our Homeroom was suspended because of the kidnapping scares, and I was a bit relieved at that. I didn't want to lose anyone tonight—whoever or whatever they were.

We were getting ready for bed when somebody knocked on the door on our cabin.

Kristin was the nearest to the door, but she didn't open it. She looked forcefully immersed in what she was reading.

"Aren't you going to answer the door?" I called out to her.

She shook her head distractedly. I rolled my eyes and reluctantly jumped out of bed to answer the damn door. I opened it and was surprised to see our late-night visitor.

"Comrade," I greeted and smiled. I looked back into our cabin to see if somebody noticed him there, but none were looking our way. "Do you want to get in?"

He shook his head and beckoned me to follow him out.

"Let me just grab my coat. Wait for me there."

I went inside again, grabbed my coat and shoved my feet into comfortable shoes. Lissa emerged from the bathroom and looked at me questioningly.

"Where are you going?" asked Lissa, her eyes sparkling innocently.

I was an impulsive liar, and I was glad I could make something up before she got suspicious. "I'm being called to the Headmistress' office because I skipped training in Armageddon."

She frowned and nodded. "Be careful," she called when I was at the door.

"Always," I called back.

Dimitri was waiting outside the cabin, just like I asked him to.

"What's up?" I asked when I noticed the grim look on his face. He led me to the west exit of the living quarters, which was the direction that led to the large woods. I hoped he knew his way around. I wouldn't want to get lost again.

"Another Academist is missing."

I paled, my blood running cold. "Who?"

"Leroi Estur. One of the lab experts. His leader is being too much of a worrier, and is not making the job of retrieving him any easier." It was the first time I've seen Dimitri Belikov look agitated.

"Liam? Where's he at?"

"At the Endo Domain. That's where we're going." His pace was long and fast. I had to jog just to keep up with him.

"You don't seem too calm now, Comrade."

The look on his face told me that he didn't like that nickname, but that was half the reason why I called him that. It was just cute…but there was no time to declare what was cute or not. We had a missing Academist, and we needed to find him right away.

When we got to the Endo Domain, I realized that Dimitri had left out a very important detail about who were also in the place.

I verbally lashed out at Dimitri. "Why did you not tell me that _he _is here?" I gestured to my father dramatically for effect. My face was completely flushed and, I assumed, terribly red.

Dimitri seemed stunned. "I didn't know you had anything against Ibrahim Mazur." He said monotonously.

I wanted to stomp my foot, but I didn't. I was sure that I looked intimidating enough though because I felt my father's guards shift, ready restrain me if I'd take offense. They have never seen this Rose before. In fact, the Rose they knew was a brat, but a very calm and collected brat at that. Unlike this Rose—this Rose was just out of control—and _I_ liked it.

"Soldier, stand down." A voice boomed. I knew that it was my father. It was obvious from his accent and the way his tone demanded respect and attention.

Slowly and reluctantly, I pivoted toward his direction, and executed a salute. He saluted back, and we dropped our hands in sync. Geez, what a great family reunion.

"If we are done with these formalities, I'd like to get on with the business at hand." Liam, who was pacing all over on the corner of the room, said all of a sudden.

My father sent him a look that said he didn't like the tone he used on him. "Of course," his tone said otherwise. It had a faint hint of amusement, which I really didn't understand.

I glared at Dimitri. "We're going to have to talk later,"

Dimitri smiled. "Sure, soldier." His tone was taunting.

I stuck my tongue out at him, hoping that my father didn't catch me doing that. He didn't, I knew. He was too busy listening to the kid ramble on about how his lab partner didn't clock in on his last shift.

"And he was supposed to help with me the inventory, but he didn't come too. I went to his room, but he wasn't there. I got worried, and I reported it." The kid adjusted his glasses, his eyes looking teary. I swear if Kristin was here to see that, she'd surely run to him and hug him like a teddy bear.

"Inventory? What were you going to do with inventories?" I asked. I was a little horrified at the mention of inventories.

"We like to keep things in line, and separate our things in different catalogues." He replied nonchalantly.

I shook my head at the kid. No wonder his head was so big. He actually _liked_ doing inventory. What I assumed were father's specialists took down notes and conspicuously scrutinized the place with trained eyes.

"Where was Leroi last seen?" Sydney Sage, one of the best Mazur Clan specialists, asked. Her eyes looked gold under the bright light of the building, and her hair would have looked better if a blizzard passed by.

"Last time I saw him was here. About three and a half hours ago. After that was his last class with me, and then he wasn't in dinner and our appointment to do inventory."

Almost all of the people in the place gasped and took steps back. Right. The Endo Domain was a potential crime scene, and they were supposed to be preserving it.

"Everybody, we have to evacuate the place now. There may still be some kind of evidence that can help us with our investigation here." Sydney ordered.

"What's the point? We already messed the place up. It's not safe to say that everyone who's been gallivanting around here will all be our suspects! Who knows how many Academists have been here?" I exclaimed and I saw Sydney flinch. I kind of had that effect on her.

"Actually, I think Rosemarie here is right, Miss Sage." My father said blandly, putting a hand on my shoulder.

Gee, I'm glad he was in my side.

Sydney and the other specialists who looked like they were about to protest, bowed their heads and quietly mumbled things to themselves.

"Of course, Sir. We respect Miss Mazur's judgment as much as yours."

And there it was. Miss _Mazur_. I was wondering how long Sydney would snap.

_Tsk._

Damn Sydney and her big mouth. From the corner of my eyes, I saw that Dimitri's body had stiffened. He face was completely still, and he looked like he wasn't breathing at all. He also didn't bat an eyelash. It was making me crazy.

I shook my head at Sydney disapprovingly, and I heard father from beside me chuckle (yes, he chuckles from time to time). Sydney suddenly paled at the realization she just called me Miss _Mazur_.

"Sydney, I know you know what you just did." I mumbled quietly.

She swallowed. "You're undercover? I mean, you're still undercover? FGS, this is a school and you're undercover?" Sydney only used FGS when she was completely floored.

There was a subdued cough in the background.

"You know I'm always undercover as _Rose Hathaway_."

Her eyes widened and she looked like she was about to start biting her nails. I kept my gaze at her, and she caught mine grudgingly. It was a wonder why people waited for our staring contest to be over now that we had another missing Academist.

A single drop of sweat trickled near her brow.

I burst out laughing. She sucked in a breath as if she had been underwater for too long. "Sorry, Syd. Payback's a bitch."

She clutched at her chest dramatically. "Yeah, I know."

Sydney hadn't only blown my cover once, but also a couple of times in the past. It was a very inconvenient time when she decided to call me Miss Mazur when I was on a lunch date with Russia's sixteen year-old successor, Alexandre Khruschev. Russia and Turkey then weren't in good terms, and I was on a sting operation to go chum-chum with the successor so that—once he is on the throne—my country and his would be allies again.

The successor had gone completely pale then and excused himself from his supposed proposal for me and never came back. Luckily, the guy didn't say anything to his father about what happened. The reason why Sydney wasn't fired from that screw-up was because she was too valuable to lose, and I'd also talked to my father in her behalf.

"Anyway, let's continue, people. No more lollygagging in the investigation. I want you all to be in separate groups, depends on your specialization, and come up with a plan to find these missing Academists." And then I just realized something.

I looked at my father, a little panicky. "Won't they suspect that something's wrong with the students? You know, we're not actually _human_ here."

My father gave me a very small smile. "It's okay. They know."

"What? They've known this for how long?"

"For as long as they've been working for me. Rosemarie, you should know that I actually am not human too."

"Yeah, I guessed that much since the Academy is your alma mater, but what the fuck? Why do these people know? Shouldn't you keep it a secret?"

"You'd be surprised that they are human, Rose. Nobody in this world is fully human anymore. After the great storm in 2012, our cells and abilities have escalated, making us the most promising type of human-beings ever created. A new generation of man-kind. But like I said a while ago, none of us now are fully human now, and we should be careful around people who are in power."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What are you?"

His eyes took on a crimson glint. He demonstrated by setting the shoulder of my coat on fire. I quickly patted the fire out, and noticed that it hadn't singed my coat.

"Don't tell me that you didn't suspect much." My father said cryptically.

Yes, I have always wondered why my father was so…_fascinated_ with fire and heat. Now I knew.

I looked up at his dark cold eyes, and then bowed my head as if in shame. But to tell you the truth, I wasn't ashamed of anything. "I'm sorry, Sir. I shouldn't have questioned you. It was uncalled for." I was still uncomfortable calling him "dad" or "father" around people.

"It's quite alright," he replied.

I looked up, relieved that the moment was over and went over to where Sydney and Liam were huddled up.

"What's the plan?" I asked. I was aware of Dimitri and my father talking at the corner of the room. I paid them no attention and went to the job at hand.

"So, it was said that Leroi was last seen here." On her large touch screen tablet, she had the Endo Domain's blue print on zoom. She pointed on the front reception, and it quickly flipped on showed the log book. Yes, the reception had a log book to see if the Academists actually attended their classes. "The log book shows that Leroi got in at 3:21 in the afternoon. Quite late for his subject, but Liam said that he is usually late. Am I right?"

Liam, from the other side, nodded.

"He went out of the class at 4:09 in the afternoon. That was his last appearance, and if my calculations are right, we are standing just right where he was last seen."

We were standing right in front of a canvas wall art with bright red poppy paintings. It was a dead-end.

That's strange. Sydney was rarely wrong when she guessed.

"And at our right side there will be a security camera."

Sure enough, at the right side, was a barely hidden security camera.

I sighed in irritation. "How would he be looking at a painting and disappear?" I asked to nobody in particular. Nobody was listening. Sydney was extracting her transmitter, mumbling a message.

"Brody, I need the recorded videos from the last four hours of the security cam in the north aisle of the Endo Domain. Send it to my tablet immediately."

"I'm on it," Brody replied through the loud speaker of the transmitter.

While Sydney waited for the security footage to arrive, I started to sift on the painting.

"What are you doing? You're tampering potential evidence!"

I shushed her. "The painting was askew."

"Whatever."

I flipped her off, and watched intently at the cracks on the wall. There wasn't anything suspicious about the wall at all except for the askew painting. I wondered what had happened to make it that way…but whatever. Maybe it was nothing…or something.

I blinked at the painting.

"I got it! I got the footage. Let me see, what time was it?"

"Around 3:50 to 4:10 in the afternoon." Liam said from behind.

I cocked my head at the painting, scrutinizing it. It was clearly just an ordinary painting. But what about the wall behind it?

"WTF? There's this effing two-minute time lapse! Somebody tampered with the security cameras." Sydney complained from behind. "Brody, I want somebody to go to the security camera mainframe. There's definitely an inside job in this kidnapping." She barked. She sounded just like a demanding detective.

Wait, _I_ should be the detective. Because I was the smarter one!

"Rose, please stop eye-fucking the painting FGS!" It was my first time to hear Sydney say something so vulgar like fuck.

As much as Sydney's language shocked me, I just continued "eye-fucking" the painting. Without further ado, pulled the canvass off the wall, revealing a big as fuck vent.

"What the hell? That's not in the blue print! Why is that not in the fucking blue print?

"Because that is not supposed to be there,"

I jumped with a start at the sound of Adrian's voice. I looked back, and jumped up with a start again. He wasn't wearing his usual dark cloak, but he was wearing normal—if not expensive-looking—clothes for once.

"What, you ran out of detergent to wash your cloaks?" I joked.

Adrian disengaged his serious gaze that was directed on Sydney. He smiled when he saw me. "Ah, Little Flower, so nice to see you in this godly hour of the night, not that it really bothered me before." He winked at me, and I grimaced.

He turned to look back at Sydney again. "Now, who is this beauty right here?" He took Sydney's hand in his, and I could only guess that he was about to pull off the chivalry hand kiss on her.

Sydney did me proud at her sneer. She learned from the best. "None of your business." Before Adrian could even put his lips on her skin, she pulled it out of his grasp.

His green eyes gave the slightest indication of narrowing. "Well, Miss None-of-your-business, would you like an introduction about that vent right over there?"

Sydney nodded, but she still didn't look at ease. "Of course, that will make my job much easier."

"This vent leads directly out to the therion territory, which is quite far from here and at the edge of the Camouflage."

Sydney looked like she did her homework because she knew exactly what the Camouflage and therion were, but Adrian was oblivious to that fact. Or maybe he knew but just acted dumb.

"Do you know what the Camouflage is?"

She had that annoyed calculating look on her face. "Of course I do. I don't take up an assignment without learning about it."

I was a little bored at listening to Adrian talk—he seemed a little too entertained with his voice too. I looked at Liam, and saw that he too was listening. Was I the only one who gets tired of stories easily? I was feeling so damn restless.

"Oh, what the hell," I threw off the vent's cover, and I climbed in, crawling inside like I was an expert.

Before I could crawl at least three feet away, somebody grabbed my ankle and pulled me back out.

"Rose, what are you doing?"

I saw the face of a very pissed off Russian.

"What do you think I was doing? I just can't stand there and listen to him talk when I know where the kidnapper's route of exit is! Go away, I can take it from here." And I seriously believed that I _could_ take it from here.

"Rose, you're not going anywhere," Dimitri declared.

"Who are you, my father?"

"No, but I may be able to fix that. Your father doesn't want you busting this operation like you always do."

I almost wanted to kick him on his handsome face. Almost. "What the fuck do you know about _my_ operations?"

"Your father—"

"It's my father's opinion of me! You know that he's biased, right? He prefers Yilmaz the screw-up rather than me! Because I'm a fucking girl! That doesn't mean if I'm a girl, I always get to be fucking wrong about things. Now, just piss off or I'll kick you where it hurts."

Dimitri didn't back away. "No."

Before I could bombast with him with reasons why I should go, he continued, saying "No, Rose, I am not going to let you put yourself in danger. That's why your father brought specialists with him, so they'd be able to hunt down the culprit."

"But, Comrade, they are _our_ family. We should be the one looking for them, not these strangers." I gestured to the people around us. "We'll take over from here." I told my father quietly. His eyes shone with what I suspected as pride. I don't know why or what he could be proud of. I was just one rebellious girl that he has never learned to control—well, he did, but that's another story.

Dimitri looked at me for a second, and I hoped that he would fall for my pleading look. Finally, he sighed, ran a hand through his long hair, and nodded.

"Yes!" I punched the air and gave Dimitri a hug. Sufficed to say that everybody was shocked, but I ignored the looks they gave me.

I started to climb up the vent again, but Dimitri stopped me again.

"What the fuck, Comrade? I thought we were over this?"

He sent me a scolding look. "Even if I'm giving you the authority for the investigation doesn't mean you are going to scout alone."

I crossed my arms across my chest. "Fine,"

His eyes glittered with humor. "Good."

"What do we do now?"

Dimitri asked Liam something that I didn't really understand. It wasn't that it was in another language, but it was actually in English. It was just that super-scientific stuff that only geniuses understood—with me as a special exception, of course.

Liam was quick to answer. Sydney's ears perked up at the mention of that too. We had two geniuses hyped up.

"The vent is exactly 20 meters before it leads you directly to the edge therion territory. It is quite deserted there, but I assume, with the right tools and power, they can go out undetected within a matter of minutes."

Liam and Sydney nodded. Liam was busy solving something on a piece of paper.

"We can assume the time the kidnapper has traveled at four hours. The terrain here in the mountain is steep, and could only be travelled on foot. We are sure that they have not used any flying vehicles because we'd know that if they did."

Sydney busily stroked on her tablet, solving those complicated equations like Liam. It was disturbing. It was exactly three seconds later that I knew what they were doing. They were searching for the location displacement of the kidnappers.

For them, it was simple Physics. But for me, it was torture.

In sync, Sydney and Liam's heads shot up and they said "48 degrees North-west of the Academy" together.

I didn't let them see my astonishment. I grabbed Sydney's tablet and got a sketch of the whole mountain. Dimitri wasn't lying about the very steep terrains.

Everybody huddled up close to me. "Assuming they are on foot, and they've been on run for about four hours, they couldn't have gotten far. Brody, I want you to get your set of Academists and lead them toward 45 degrees North-east."

He nodded.

"Sydney, set up a team to search south just in case. I'll take North-west with my team." I set the tablet down. "Do a fifty-mile triangulation. I don't want these fuckers to slip from our grasps." With that said, everyone spread out like wild fire.

"And you," I pointed at Liam. His eyes widened behind his thick glasses. "I want you to find out who messed with the tapes. "

He nodded furiously.

"I _want _you to get this done as soon as we arrive here. I hate it when people double-cross us."

"Of course,"

I turned my back on him.

"Hey, Rose!"

I looked back at the kid. He looked pale and a little nervous.

"What is it?"

"Get Leroi back safely, please. He's very important to the Academy. And he's my friend."

I gave him a soft smile and tilted my head. I never truly experienced the true meaning of friendship, but having met Lissa, I wouldn't know what I'd do if it was Lissa who'd go missing. "Of course, Liam. That's my job, after all."

I grabbed Dimitri by the arm and spun him towards me. He looked surprised at my action.

"Comrade, I need your help to gather the Academists around the main hall."

He nodded without hesitation, and we made our way towards the main hall. When we finally did, he stopped in front of a large oxygen tank that was suspended mid-air.

"What the eff?" I heard Sydney's disgruntled squeal from behind.

I looked up and down at the oxygen tank. It was huge and rusty, and practically floating. Even though I was exposed to the magic and "normalcy" of the Academy for quite a bit, this particular flying part was a little hard to believe and make sense of. Yeah, somehow I knew it was possible, but still…

"My thoughts, exactly." I murmured to myself and watched Dimitri as he picked up a large thing that looked much like a hammer.

"You better cover your ears," he mumbled to us quietly, and then banged the hammer to the tank.

My reaction to his suggestion was too delayed and the full impact of the noise the tank made hit me like a wrecking-ball. My ears were ringing at the after-shock of the discordant blow. He made a move to hit the tank again, and now, I covered my ears just on time to drown out the noise. He hit it about three more times before putting the hammer down.

I removed my hands from my ears. "What now?"

"Now, we wait."

"Cryptic," I remarked and grimaced at his vagueness. I never liked enigmatic, evasive _and _vague people before, but Dimitri brought out a new meaning to mystery. I kind of liked it. Kind of.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Adrian looming over at the corner, deeply engaged with a conversation with my father. I couldn't see Liam anywhere and I jest that he was out doing the job that I assigned for him to do. Father's specialists were huddled at another corner, pointing at various things at once. I just hoped what they were discussing about were important things.

Not two minutes later, Academists started walking in the main hall. They were all watchful and alert of the surroundings, but I didn't miss their disarrayed hair and rumpled clothes. I guess some of the Academists were early sleepers, since it was only 8:30 PM.

Someone nudged me from my back. I looked back and saw Sydney holding out a wireless mic to me. I understood her look. She never found the appeal of speaking publicly, and she would never will.

I took the mic from her, and deep silence filled the room when I felt a shadow loom over me. I looked over and saw that the—or rather, those shadows were the Vessels themselves. Adrian and Dimitri stood, indifference masking both their faces. Awesome.

"Okay, Academists, we called you because we need help…"

After the Academists were grouped and assigned with their tasks, I turned my back to the murmuring crowd and had a visual on my father on the phone. My posture stiffened when I saw the ever-hidden troubled look on his face. He rarely had that look. Hell, he rarely had any expression on his face except fierceness of boredom.

Not knowing what to do, I cautiously walked towards him. Now, I was close enough to hear him talk to the person on the phone. He spoke fluent Russian, and I was able to catch bits and pieces of it.

_Khruschev _and _fault_ were the only words I understood.

Suddenly, father stopped talking and snapped his phone shut. He looked up at the sky and sighed. He looked frustrated.

"Any problem, Sir?" I asked him, trying to hide my worry. It was unusual, how he could get this expressive. As far as I've known my father, he had _never_ been frustrated.

Closing his eyes, he looked down for a moment and put his fist on his head, a gesture I found disarming. I did the same whenever I was frustrated. "Yes," he answered.

"Mind my question, sir, but what is it about?"

Again, he sighed. "The Russian Confederation and our nation have never been in good terms the first time I took the title. Now, it's much worse." He sounded tired, almost defeated.

My heart went out to him, but I didn't dare show it. "I know about the situation with the Russians. I thought we had a framework agreement that he'd cooperate with our artillery and oil exchange for their continued support for the nation." My tone was a little apprehensive.

"Vladimir Khruschev himself called me on the phone."

"Well, that's a first." I was flabbergasted to say the least. The Russian dignitary was one hell of a guy to get a hold with and he made sure that everyone knew that, especially to my father. But now, having called my father, it was probably his way of announcing the "official" cut of our nation's truce with his, or just a social call. But Khruschev had little time for social calls. I knew that because I dated his son back then.

"What did he say?" I asked, my heart continuing to pump in a way I found very uncomfortable.

"He found out about that sting operation we conducted two years ago, and now he demands compensation for it."

I leaned back, my mouth hanging ajar. "But that happened years ago, he couldn't actually dig up this whole case and make a fucking mess out of it."

"Knowing his power and resources, he can." My father replied faintly.

"What's he going to do if we don't give him the compensation?" I almost tapped my toe in exasperation.

"He's going to reprimand the treaty, which will leave our nation vulnerable to attacks." He had that tired, defeated look on his face again.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Well, yeah, it's inevitable that we're going to have to be invasion by other countries, but nothing we can't get past, right?"

My father looked up with new-found fierceness. "How can you be so callous, Rose? People—thousand and millions of lives—will be lost if this happens."

I stepped down. "Forgive me, but—"

He held up his hand to stop me. "I know, you meant to no offense. I would have understood that point—to spare life of the others to save our nation's skin, but…"

"But what?" I nearly made a mistake of poking his arm.

"But…I am not the man I was before." He said and looked at me, a soft look making his strong features grow old. "After you almost died, I realized something. If we go to war now, we will lose many lives—lives of loved ones, people who have family to go home to. Just imagining losing you, Rose, my daughter, I couldn't even handle it, and I wouldn't want that pain for my people. I colonized their territory; I'll serve them by being a good leader they deserve to have."

I didn't realize that my eyes were starting to prick when he said these things. He lifted a hand and brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. The gesture surprised me even more than his declaration. I didn't know my father cared that much. I really didn't know.

"There will be no war, pityingly small renegades or big tank revolutions." He said with finality.

I stepped back from him and nodded, collecting my thoughts one by one.

"Well, if you want that, give him his compensation." I said, my voice gravelly with unshed tears. Jesus.

I swear, his shoulders fell when I mentioned that. "That's the problem. He wants my head on a silver platter."

I took another step back, flabbergasted all over again. "That's the compensation for just, what, banging his son?"

"Apparently, yes." Ibrahim the Conqueror had an appalled look on his face.

I could have laughed at him, but I didn't. "That's just asking too much. I'd rather ditch his skinny ass if it were up to me."

Somebody tapped me on my shoulder. I looked back to see Dimitri.

"Yeah?" I asked him.

"You have a legion waiting for your permission to go." He said and walked away.

It took me a moment to realize that I was still about to lead the Academists for an area search. I have forgotten about that, really. I looked back at my father and saw that he was composed again. Good.

"Father, look, I'm sure Khruschev's kidding—exaggerating a little. I'm sure that his head was still hot from having known this when he called you, and I'm sure that you will come up with an agreement soon after his anger passes."

Surprisingly, my father nodded. "Now, go, you've helped me enough. Go lead your first search." He ordered in that no-nonsense tone of his. I smiled, feeling high at the moment. Three things just happened for the past ten minutes. I led my own search party, knew father had a soft spot for me, and gained his total trust. It was more like a miracle than a day worth of good events.

* * *

**2023 T hours**

**8:23 PM, Outside Academy Bounds, Montana Mountain**

"Jean Paul's group, the Bravo team, you go to the north-east terrain about 60 miles tops." The Bravo team nodded and started toward their direction with speed I was proud to see. Their team had the most therions so they practically had no problem with their search.

"Brody will lead the group throughout the south bounds. You are team Delta." Brody saluted and led his team toward their direction.

I faced my team, seeing many unknown faces, but some alarmingly familiar. One of them was Ara. Her eyes shone strangely like sunset, a strange mixture of orange, yellow, and brown. "Team Alpha, remember what I told you. Priority one is Leroi Estur. Kill captors on sight and retrieve him back to the Academy." They all nodded, and we headed off to where statistics and physics showed where Leroi was likely to have been taken.

Two hours later and 24-mile radius of our grounds covered, we finally found the relief we were looking for. The radio buzzed.

"Bravo team here. Seems like there were campers here the other day. Tracks headed to your direction but the scent's a bit off—it's a day-old, but try focusing one fresher scents. Over."

"Copy that. Over." I stepped over a lying log, flashing the bright flashlights forward when I heard a crack when I stepped. I shone the light to what was under my boot and found a syringe. Pulling on a glove, I picked up the syringe and examined it. I wasn't an expert chemist or whatever, but the blue liquid inside of the thing didn't look inviting.

"What's that?" Leo, one of father's workers, asked me, shining his light over the syringe I had put on an evidence bag.

"A syringe. It looks a few hours-old, and it definitely has something to do with our missing Academists." I said without hesitation.

"Of course. Who would expect a syringe to pop up out of nowhere in the mountains unless there's someone kidnapping and sedating a person?" Leo laughed. I shook my head at him. He was a breath of fresh air for the other worker, which was why my father had hired him in the first place. No matter how grim the situation, he'd always find a way to make one laugh.

A twig snapped just ahead of us. Alerted, we drew out our guns and pointed them towards the direction of the noise. Slowly, a small figure emerged from the direction. We put our guns down and I rolled my eyes as I saw who the one who made the noise was.

Ara had one brow raised at me, but made no comment.

"There's nothing more there, I searched and sniffed at everything. I tried following the scent, but it's lost with time." Ara told Leo. I struggled not to roll my eyes at her again.

"We should move then, since we know we're not getting any—" my voice was suddenly cut off by a loud sound made by the radio and a gun shot. It was near. There was a scream—a man's scream.

Automatically, we followed the sound of the gun shot. Ara shot in and out of the trees in lynx form. I didn't know what she did with her clothes, but I was glad at her speed and agility. She took the lead and led us to the gun shots.

My radio clicked and mumbled muffled voices. "Team Alpha. We have secured priority one. I repeat, we've secured priority—" there was another gun shot. But now, it was very loud and very near. From my own ears, I heard a thud. From my own eyes, I saw a body fall. From the striking light hair graying at the temples, I knew that the fallen was Lester, one of father's workers again. In front of him, I saw the man who had shot him. He didn't look like the rugged guy I've been expecting, but still, I shot him. He shot my soldier, I'll just shoot him right back.

I drew out my gun and pulled the trigger. It hit the man on the middle of his chest once. Twice. Thrice. The kidnapper fell to his knees, and finally fell to the waiting earth beneath him.

I ran to the soldier, calling out to Leo to get Leroi to safety. I kneeled next to Lester's unmoving body and saw that there was no blood on his clothes.

"Lester?" I slapped his face a little too hard.

His eyes opened and he coughed. I put a hand on his shoulder as he coughed out the shock of the bullets had on his lungs. "Hit my vest pretty damn hard." He said in paroxysms of coughs. "Fucking cocksucker just had to kill me." He grumbled.

I patted his shoulder and squeezed. "But he didn't."

I looked back and saw that Leo had cleared Leroi and were with other Academists, leading back to the Academy. I stood and looked around. The kidnapper I assumed Lester shot was definitely dead. One shot in the head did that to him.

As for the man I'd shot because of shooting Lester, he was unmoving, but there was no sign of blood of his clothes.

"Ryan," I called. "I want that guy back to the Academy for questioning. Treat him first and cuff him to his cot. Guard him 24/7, and alert me if ever he wakes up." I ordered and Ryan nodded in easy assent.

"What?" Ara thundered all of a sudden. She stepped in front of me, all her naked glory in front of me. I looked up in search for something else. Dear Lord, what was up with her parading naked everywhere? I mean, I knew the woman had no shame, but didn't she ever get cold?

"You won't bring that murderer back to the Academy! I won't let you!" she protested.

I fixed her a calm look. "We need that man for questioning, Ara. This will help our job in finding the rest of the Academists much easier."

"Easier? Easier for who? You?"

"Easier for _us_, Ara. We can't just stand here do nothing when we have a man who can probably give us all the info we need to find this kidnapper and mole we have inside the Academy."

That seemed to convince her a little, but she still made sure that I knew she wasn't fully in agreement on this.

"Fine, do it. Bring him to the place where we find our peace. Go ahead and stain the damn place, I don't care. Just as long as you keep your pet's filthy hands off my family, I won't kill the man on where he stands." She turned away and shifted to her lynx form.

She was about to run when I called her back. The lynx stopped and looked back, its eerie eyes seething.

"Ara, I know we've had our differences, but I want you to understand that…" I swallowed. "…that the Academy is also my home, and that I would do anything to protect it. Hell, the Academy is all sorts of crazy, but it's also my home. Whether you believe me or not. It doesn't matter. I'm just asking you to trust me on this one. For once, just trust me."

For a moment, we just stared into each other's eyes. And then, the stare shifted into something much more neutral and comfortable. I knew now that I had her trust, but she didn't indicate anything that she did.

I caught up with Ryan, and saw the kidnapper all over again. He had on some sort of uniform, similar to what my father's guards wore, but a different insignia. It was clear, from the pins he had, that he was a special man. Whoever the mastermind of this kidnapping was, he just lost one of his pretty jewels, and I had it on full claim.

* * *

**Uuuugh. Sorry guys, I'm not really good at all things politics ('cause I hate them that much), and screw proof-reading. This chapter is raw. And damn, I've ruined my update dates. **

**So, what do you think will happen on the next chapter? Will Mr. Pretty Jewel talk? Who do you think is the mole/traitor of the Academy? Is there a greater power working on this event?**

**If you have questions, you can ask them through PMs or reviews. :D**

**Xoxo,**

**Katya**


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